


Peace in Our Time

by FlamencoGu1tar



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Crimes & Criminals, Good Cop Bad Cop, Investigations, Justice, Multi, Terrorism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2019-11-28 18:22:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18211922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlamencoGu1tar/pseuds/FlamencoGu1tar
Summary: Zootopia is a city of change, of innovation, of diversity and unity. It's where anyone can be anything... And that's what brings the troubles. He never thought of being the one the city needs, but when terror struck, he answered. It's not for being a good mammal doing his duties. It's for the peace in our time.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! First of all, thank you for dropping in by and giving this story a chance. I really appreciate it. Second, this is my first time posting on AO3, so there might be some technical issues bouncing around and about regarding formats and the likes, therefore, I apologize in advance.
> 
> Pardon me for my inability to write in proper grammar, occasional misspellings, and incomprehensible contents. English is a beautiful language, but it's not my native language, though I'm still striving for further improvements. Feedback is always hugely appreciated, and I'm looking forward to hearing any thoughts, comments, questions, or ideas.
> 
> Notice: I do not own Zootopia or any other copyrighted contents that might show up every now and then throughout the story. They belong to their own rightful owners.
> 
> Rated M for: strong language, suggestive themes, use of violence (and excessive violence).

Chapter 0: Prologue

* * *

 

 

The ocean.

 

Probably one of the places on the entire planet that he’d loved the most. He just loves to sit at the end of the pier, dangling his bare feet just above the splashing water while staring out into the far end of the dancing water. He would take his family there sometimes on the weekend, too, or whenever they could afford it.

 

“It” being the weekend.

 

He loved the ocean for many things, but one of them holds a special place in his heart: It has nothing to say. And it’s needless to say anything. It doesn’t judge, it doesn’t discriminate, and unlike him, it doesn’t lie and break promises. That’s its nature, how it was created. He loved it just the way it is.

 

But. after what happened last week and today, he could never wander into the serenity of the sea again. He couldn’t love it anymore for that love was tainted. With blood.

 

“Hey, Al!”

 

The bark broke his private, fragile room of thoughts and snapped him back to attention. The fox swung around to see the hound sitting at the end of the speedboat with a curious look on his face. A smoking cigarette hung low between his set of fangs as he went on with more questions.

 

“What ya doing sitting there staring at your hands? Got hit or something?” The Northern English accent always managed to fool him into thinking that the one-eye fox is the sort of a laid-back mammal. Even the look on his face plays the part. But, after running with the crew for almost a whole month, he knew that Joey was precisely the opposite of an easy-going creature.

 

“Um, no. Just…”

 

“Sure a stray bullet didn’t hit you?”

 

The fox looked over his shoulder at the badger on the other end of the boat manning the watercraft. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

 

Melvin Kingsley was the head of their little gunrunning crew. He had always been the one to look out for everyone, whether it was financial or just simply sitting down at a bar to talk over things with a cup of tea. The Englishmammal is not to be taken as a softie, however, as he could be as ruthless as he is caring. Though the red fox had never seen the badger acted out of his usual classy manner, he certainly didn’t need to see that ferocious side of the crew’s mastermind and negotiators.

 

“Are you?” The mastermind asked again. This time, he was looking ahead of the ship instead of facing the fox.

 

Alan wasn’t sure if he was fine like he said. He wasn’t sure if any of what they did and were doing was “fine.”  Maybe some of the things they had done in the weeks before could be comfortably fit into that “fine” zone, but what had just happened an hour before was something else. To the fox, it wasn’t “fine” at all.

 

Mugging tobacco shops and liquor stores might be alright with him, but this whole “operation” crossed the line that he’d drawn.

 

“I… I don’t know,” the red fox paused as he stared back down at the pair of bloody hands.

 

“We’ve just killed someone, Mel.”

 

“So?”

 

The indifference in the badger’s tone made Alan contorted his brows and slightly held his maw open as the fox looked at the chocolate-fur mammal.

 

“Someone just died by our hands! It wasn’t supposed to go like that.”

 

“You’re shell shocked.”

“Nobody was even supposed to get shot at!” Alan burst out.

 

“Yeah, you go tell that kid and his buddy. That slimy scumbag of a buck pulled his gun out first.” Joey said, taking the cigarette in between his fingers and letting out a cloud of white smoke that barely lasted against the wind.

 

Alan followed up with nothing in response. Joey was right about the kid and his friend. He understands that when somebody tries to hijack a deal, it isn’t going to end on a pleasant for all parties. In their case, it didn’t end well for the other guys.

 

“You didn’t have to do all of that first aid thing, either. Hardly anyone lives after getting a bullet sliced through their throat.” The one-eye mammal added.

 

Having isolated himself from the others in an invisible sphere of solitude once more, the last words from Joey slipped through Alan’s ears as his thought was occupied by nothing more than the guilt from what he didn’t do.

 

He was expecting the usual kind of deal, where he and the crew deliver the crates of guns to the buyer, receive the payment, and then walk away like they had always done. They would then split the money evenly, and Alan would take all of it and send it into an offshore account that was under a pseudonym. He needed that money, but not for him.

 

It was for home.

 

_Home. So close that you can see it, yet it’s so far that you can’t reach it._

 

“Outback coming up, boys.” Came the voice of the captain.

 

_Home._

 

* * *

 

\--Years later--

  


“You said he worked at a tailor shop?”

 

“Most of the time.”

 

“What’d you mean?”

 

“Well, he… had a lot of different jobs. Running from one place to another to make a buck. Anything that could get him an honest day’s pay, he’d go for it.”

 

“Sounds like a busy man.”

 

“He was. He considered the tailor shop to be his favorite, though. Even thought of opening one.”

 

“But he never had the chance to, huh?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

The silence between the two mammals after one of them answered made the air even more morbid than it already was. Thankfully, the midnight chirps of the critters among the grass and the distant sound of water sprinklers spouting fended off the grim stillness of the night, and those little, indistinctive chitter of the marble town turned that uneasy absent of life into something more... tranquil.

 

For him, it was.

 

They’ve been standing there for almost a solid half an hour. The crisp autumn wind lightly brushed over their fur and touched their skin, yet it sent shivers down one of the two visitors as he wrapped himself with both arms.

 

The brows on the dingo’s face contorted into a slightly agitated frown. He wasn’t used to getting out in open fields this late at night. The comfort of his bed and the confinement inside four walls were his accustomed habitat.

 

If he had to describe himself in three words, James Diaz would not hesitate to blurt out something similar to nerd, city-dweller, and brunch. Going out to socially interact with other mammals wasn’t on his list of “things should be done,” nor it was his preferred after-work activity, and his job barely needed him to interact with anyone, so, therefore trying to maintain a normal, non-awkward conversation was something of a skill that he desperately needed to hone and preserve. Thankfully, he didn’t need to do any of that as the other mammal next to him had been the one to strike up conversations and sailing them to shore without wrecking them like James would have if he were to take the wheel.

 

A security analyst for a small company and a ZPD detective. It’s not an odd pair-up but isn’t a customary one, either. James had known the fox before the street hustler got recruited and became a ZPD officer. Back then, the dingo himself was still an intern at a tech workshop, fresh out of college and oblivious to the city. Years later, one landed a job that can pay for a fancy apartment uptown, and the other got promoted to Detective.

 

He looked thinner and thinner with every meeting that was called; It was quite evident as the charcoal-colored blazer he adored so much was becoming somewhat loose on him. Lack of sleep was the dingo’s first and best guess. After that, loss of appetite would be the likely follow-up.

 

Drugs wouldn’t fit in any part of the narrative as he knew the red fox was and still was a cop. Not the kind that takes bribes and boasts about his or her career to the whole city, the one that pulls out his or her loaded gun and points it at a shoplifter. He wasn’t the sort that would do meet-and-greets with every mammal at the station and carry an overly optimistic view on justice, either. No, Nicholas Wilde was more of the mammal that dabbles in the gray zone between the “good cop” and the “bad cop.” He was the kind that would occasionally slack off on paperwork, but wouldn’t let a potato thief get away.

 

“So, why are we here of all the places?” James spoke, hissing afterward and rubbing his arms as another breeze rushed by. He wished he had taken the jacket with him instead of leaving it on the rack at home.

 

“The files,” Nick replied before bending down on one knee and laid down the bouquet of assorted dandelions and other flowers that he didn’t have much of a clue on. “And because it’s his birthday.”

 

Even though they were silent nods, the dingo guessed that the fox probably knew the gesture of acknowledgment coming from him as the kneeling mammal followed up with more words on the deceased. “I know he liked dandelions. Didn’t have much of favor toward roses, though. That’s Ma. She likes roses.”

 

The fox grabbed a patch of mixed, overgrown dried and green grass lumping by the headstone and yanked it out of the ground. He continued weeding out the invasive plants to tidy up the small monument.

 

On the stone tablet erected among the thick foliage were words etched into the rough, chipped surface.

 

Alan P. Wilde

June 18, 1960 -

Mentor, Husband, Father

 

There was no date of death inscribed on the small headstone like every other grave around it, and it was entirely intentional. His mother insisted that it should be left out when they brought home the news that his car had been found at the bottom of the Green Palm bay, near the highway that connects Savanna Central and Sahara Square.

 

“When the crane fished the Fourd out of the sea, we knew that he was very well gone. The entire front was crushed in, the windshield was hanging on at a corner, and the right front wheel was somewhere else.” Nick recalled the detail of what he could remember about the day where his life began to turn for the worse.

 

James had only known that the old fox supposedly passed away in a violent car accident. Nick never told him the details, until now.

 

“That’s…” The dingo wanted to complete his utter with something fitting but found that there was nothing he could fit in.

 

“But Ma had hope. She hoped that he was still alive, maybe he would step out of the car and called it all a little mischievous prank. But everyone knew that it was pretty hard for a mammal to ram through the barrier, plummet head first into the sea, and survive like it’s in the movies.”

 

He took a pause to reach to the other side, kneeling on his knee without much care for his pair of jeans getting dirty, and resumed with the story as his hand started working again.

 

“When the car was finally out of the water and onto dry land, they found no bodies in it and quickly conclude that the waves and currents must have washed him away. At that point, Pop was concluded dead. But Ma? Ma still held her hopes. You know what she said?”

 

“What?”

 

“‘Maybe he’s stranded somewhere out on the sea.’ That was what she thought. She still thinks that he’s somewhere out there, maybe on an island, trying to find a way home.” The fox chuckled at the last part.

 

James pressed his lips into a line, not knowing what to say, or should he say anything at all. It would be awkward and impolite in the analyst’s mind for him to just stand around doing nothing while his friend his was working away to clean up his dad’s grave, so he decided to give a hand as well. He picked up the withered bundle of flowers - from a prior visit from someone - that was leaned on to the side of the headstone and scouted for a garbage can to throw it away. Taking a few steps to get to the sleek metal bin, the dingo dropped the dead flowers into the disposal container and made his way back to Nick.

 

“The cops found no evidence of foul play, so they ruled that out and reported it as accidental.”

 

“Was it?”

 

“Who knows.”

 

“But what do you think?”

 

Nick didn’t answer the question that he put out, so James thought that he might have hit something rather sensitive and immediately wished that he had not blurted it out. However, the weight on his chest was slightly unburdened as soon as the fox changed the subject.

 

“So, did your CEO say anything at all?” The orange-furred mammal inquired as he dusted his hands off and rose up.

 

“Well,” James reached into the knapsack that hung by his hip and pulled out a blue paper folder. The standard letter-sized organizer was held together by one-inch binder clips on the top and bottom. “He was very compliant with the order and said nothing more. Pulled all that the company had on the guy and squeezed them into this neat-o here. Addresses, phone numbers, P.O boxes, work schedules, too.”

 

Nick took the file folder in his hand and removed the clips so he could take a peek at the papers. There was barely any light around them, and the closest lamp post was about four yards away, but he was going to try anyway.

 

“Scary to know that the moose you work with turns out to be some sort of sicko, degenerate rapist,” James commented as he looked around the field, squinted his eyes at the far distances of the starless horizon as if he was trying to spot something, or someone, out of the darkness.

 

There was barely anyone else there except for the graveyard caretakers living in their post down at the entrance. Yet, it still felt like there were watching eyes hidden among from the graves and the bushes.

 

The mammal both him and Nick was talking about was put on the ZPD’s watchlist about two weeks prior. Less than four days later, Randy Ackmoose became the prime suspect for a twisted case of rape down in Sahara Square, and warrants started coming down on the mammal. After finding out that the suspect had fled his home, police then tried to locate him using any information about him through the places he had been associated with. That included the fugitive’s workplace, the same place that James worked at. More frightening, the same mammal that was seated just on the other side of his cubicle.

 

“People tend to hide their true faces these days. Primarily, on the internet, for example.” The fox clapped the folder close and held it close to the side of his waist. “Some use that as a mean of security, while others… others use it for things like what Ackmoose did.”

 

A short xylophone jingle broke the unspoken tension of the conversation and alerted the fox. He dug into his jeans pocket to grab hold of the vibrating smartphone and slightly reared his head back to read the screen.

 

“Shit,” Nick commented, not in an angered manner, but more in the way of someone remembering something important.

 

“What?” James raised a brow as he watched the detective shoved his phone back in.

“I missed dinner.”

 

“You missed dinner?” It was a rather strange reply to hear from the fox, considering it was thirty-five past eleven - if his watch was accurate. “Not to be rude or anything, but normal mammals have dinner before ten, and-”

 

“I know. I was at the station with the paperwork.” The fox said before drawing in a sharp breath.

 

“For how long? The whole day?”

 

“The evening. Anyway, I need to get going. Take care, James.”

 

Nick gave the dingo a parting hammer with his fist on the taller mammal’s shoulder before walking toward the parking lot.

 

There was nothing else for him to do and none that he wished to in a cold place like the cemetery, so, James made a short of his stay at the burial spot and hurried down the same cobblestone path that Nick was on. Before he left, the dingo took a glance at the headstone as if he was going to give a solemn farewell to the lost. An unspoken goodbye.

 

* * *

 

Once the engine began rumbling and the door was sealed, Nick reached for the air control tuners and turned them in clockwise motions, positioning the indicators to the red and orange squares. As the temperature inside the car adjusted itself, Nick backed out of the marked parking spot before driving to the exit gates.

 

Since there was not a single vehicle parked in the lot, the fox made a quick cut across the empty asphalt-layered field to get to his destination. The car bounced unexpectedly as it ran over something and a loud pop rang echoed through the entire parking lot.

 

 _Probably a plastic bottle some moron tossed on the ground_ , he thought while driving on and not bother stopping the car to check.

 

The glossy black, mid-size, four-door Doge Courser was a vehicle from the ZPD that they assigned to him as a part of his bargain in exchange for a cut from his monthly salary. Nick thought it would be more convenient to have a flexible vehicle that could be used both on and off duty, whenever the department needed him. Plus, it cuts down the hassle of driving his own car to the station and then swapping out for the bulky-looking standard police cruiser that’s twice his height. If he had his own car, that is.

 

With the deal, Nick was granted a vehicle that was appropriately scaled for mammals of his size, and perfectly designed for his line of work. He was a detective, not a highway patrol officer. Its appearance blended in fantastically with the ordinary traffic on the road, helping the fox maintain his incognito while surveying suspects, and its size was perfect for any sorts of pursuit. But, being a smaller vehicle meant that it wasn’t guaranteed the fleeing suspect’s vehicle could be stopped without the assistance from other officers with larger cruisers. Luckily for the detective, he had never had the need to be involved in a high-speed chase on the road.

 

He had set the scanner to off and filled in the empty silence with a playlist of songs from the eighties on his CD. It wasn’t his shift anymore, so he’d figured to switch the communication system off and would only turn it back on once he’s back on duty. He’d told himself to leave it to the other guys instead of keeping the scanner on and responding to calls when he didn’t have to. Someone else had also told him the same thing.

 

Driven far from the burial ground and entered the near-empty highway, Nick drove for about fifteen minutes before taking the exit to enter Savanna Central district of Zootopia and continued on through the quietly sleeping area. All of it, except for a particular part of the region, was in a deep, peaceful slumber. Nick next destination was anything but quiet.

 

Stopping and parking his car next to one of the white-marked lines painted on the curb, Nick turned the key and unplugged it before stepping out into the warmer atmosphere. He sucked in a large breath to completely fill his lungs and take in the familiar scents before letting it all back out through a sigh. His ears perked high in the sky as they absolved the sound of the nightlife, and his tail swayed side to side.

 

“Mannkee’s Midnite Pub,” it said on the bright neon sign screwed on above the single door. The bar was only a part of the entire one-story building, taking up about a quarter of the land. The other quarter next to it was leased to a small-time, newly established pharmacy. Behind it, taking up the rest of the space, was a supermarket. Two of the businesses were owned by the same mammal.

 

A couple of drunks busted through the door as they chanted and sung along to the muffled music behind them. Each mammal in the trio was crossing his feet from one side to the other as group dragged on down the sidewalk, heading in the direction of another bar not too far away. Nick waited for the noisy, booze-stinking party to move away from the door before he entered the lively place.

 

When he got in, nobody in the open room noticed his presence despite the jingle from a little bronze bell attached on the top of the door frame. It was until he was almost at the end of the serving counter that one of the two bartenders caught the sight of the fox.

 

“Niko!” The chubby girzzly exclaimed loudly as he threw both hands in the air, spilling a few drops of liquid from the cup in his hand. “How are you, eh? It’s good to see you, my man!”

 

“Good to see you, too, Roman.” Nick greeted back in a less than eager manner, stopping his head-bobbing motion and temporarily closed his ears to the bluesy-rock tune playing from the speakers.

 

He had to step back in order to look up at the mammal. The bar was designed for mammals that range from a lion to anything smaller; therefore, almost everything in the room was at least twice the size of Nick.

 

“Hey, you and me, we need to hang out more man. Bowling, heh? Yeah?”

 

“When you stop calling me ‘Niko,’ then yeah, maybe. Seen Mannkee around?”

 

“The lion? Right over… there.”

 

Nick followed the direction of the pointing finger and scanned the room for his target. In the far corner of the room stood a maned mammal chatting with his patrons with arms crossed. A short, white towel hung from the belt of the heavily built lion, almost blended in with his white t-shirt, but wholly contrasted with the murky green shade of his cargo pants.

 

Nick was about to walk across the room to get the lion’s attention, but then the mammal from far away turned his head to look around the crowded room, so Nick stuck up a waving hand instead. That got the owner’s attention, saving the fox from cutting through tables and squeezing in between backs and buttocks.

 

“Wilde, got the night off?” The approaching deep baritone voice was just at the right volume that Nick could hear the sarcasm in his words.

 

“You know how it is.” Nick followed up after a short chuckle.

 

“So, here for a drink? Or to get on that stage with a guitar and wow us all? It’s been a while since your last,” Mannkee said, nodding toward the raised wooden platform. There was no one on it, but the spotlight was still shining down on the makeshift stage and the burgundy curtains that hid the gray brick wall.

 

“Another time. Here for groceries, actually, and I noticed that the store is already locked up.”

 

Mannkee DiArggio owned both the bar and the supermarket behind it, and the two buildings were connected by a single dividing brick wall. There was a door that leads back and forth from either of the two places, making it extremely convenient for the lion to manage his business. In the day, he would be over at the market, cashing out customers. In the night, he’d be running the bar and serving drinks.

 

“Ah. Late night shopping? Hungry for a midnight bite?” The lion dug in his hand into the back pocket of his pant to retrieve the keys. A frown came upon the old mammal’s face as he dug into the pocket with his other hand, After finding nothing except for a few dollar bills and a corkscrew, he proceeded to pat his body from top down, searching for the bundle of keys in mild confusion, all the while mumbling to himself. “I can’t be that old… Ah.”

 

“Dropped the keys somewhere?”

 

“No, I had them over at the cupboards and totally forgot about that. Jenny!” Mannkee called out to the other bartender, a lioness who looked like she was in her twenties.

 

“Yeah, Dad?” She replied almost immediately, not looking up to meet his eyes as she was busy pouring a bottle of gin for a couple at the counter.

 

“Can you toss me the keys? The bunch that has the coconut tree hooked on.”

 

“Where?”

 

“In the middle cupboard. Top shelf, I think.”

 

“Alright, just a sec’.” The lioness said as she moved on to fill the shot glass of the next mammal.

 

Nick stood and watch from afar as the young mammal slowly, but precisely pour the content of the bottle in her hands into the small glass without spilling a single drop. “She still goes to college, or is she helping you full-time now?” Nick asked while observing the scene.

 

“Taking a gap year. Did pretty well in her first year, so she decided to take one off and travel somewhere.” Mannkee huffed as he crossed both arms in front of his chest. “She’s heading on a plane to Spain next week. Can’t tell you how excited she is. Been planning it for two whole months.”

 

“Spain? She speaks Spanish?” Nick didn’t know the lioness can understand the language, let alone speak it.

 

“No, her friend does. She’s going on the trip with a few of her friends. Two of them.”

 

“Catch!” Jenny shouted from the other end of the bar counter before hurling the ring of keys.

 

Mannkee perfectly caught the bundle in his hand without breaking a sweat. “Thank you!” He shouted back before both father and daughter went on their ways; Jenny got back to the patrons while Mannkee led Nick to the door that connected the place with the market.

 

“I miss playing baseball, sometimes. But I doubt a fifty-four years old lion can hardly sprint for the bases.” The lion laughed as he turned the doorknob with the key in it.

 

All lights were off in the market, but the moment Mannkee flipped a switch on the switch box, lights of an aisle came shining down on the shelves.

 

“So, what are we looking for today?” The older mammal asked.

 

Nick pulled out his phone and swiped across the screen to unlock it. A quick tap on the letter icon brought up all of the recent text messages to the fox, and he tapped once more on the name displayed at the top of the list.

 

“Leah,” it read.

 

He scrolled up a few texts until a short list came up. “So, I’ll need a pack of salmon fillets, a bundle of parsley and green onions, a carton of soy milk, box of Fruity Hoops, a four-can pack of condensed milk, and Hawaiian bread.”

 

“Milk is right here. Greens are over there, near the registers. Bread is on aisle four, opposite the soft drinks. I’ll get you the salmon.” After the quick instruction, Mannkee dashed off toward the frozen food section while Nick scouted for the other items.

 

Less than a quarter of an hour later, the two mammals met up at one of the registers by the entrances with the lion already waiting there long before the fox hauled his groceries in a sizeable basket to the checkout counter. The lion had picked the one with a suitable height for the fox among the many other stands of different sizes. Although it wasn’t exactly a match, the desk was low enough for Nick to boosted the red basket up on the black conveyor belt and let it travel down toward the other end

 

“Frozen fillets will do just fine?” Mannkee held the sealed package of fish meat up between his fingers just before he hovered it over the scanner.

 

“No fresh ones at this time of the day, right?” Nick said as he retrieved his wallet and readied the credit card for use.

 

“They come around five in the morning. The leftovers from today are transferred to somewhere else for something else.”

 

The scanner beeped each time an item went through, and after everything was checked-out and confirmed by the lion, a number of total costs popped up on a small display monitor, which was mounted on a metal arm with numerous joints that allowed it to be shaped however it was needed. On the right side of the screen were insert and swipe slots for customer’s credit or debit card.

 

Three different trenches corresponded to the size of the card that was going to slide through it, and the card corresponds to the mammal that carries it. A tiny one made for mammals about the size of a shrew, a small one for mammals like Nick, and the last one was for creatures somewhat the size and height of a lion like Mannkee. “Standard size” was the preferred word for the last slot.

 

“Bag?” The lion raised a brow as he held up a plastic bag in one hand and used the other one to lowered the screen so it suited the fox’s much shorter height.

 

“Sure. Gotta milk every cent out of the customers, right?” Nick joked before sliding his card along the middle slot.

 

Mannkee didn’t say anything about it and followed up with something else as he placed the items in the bag. There were more than the bag can fit all in, so the lion grabbed another one. “So what’s the occasion? I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone doing late night shopping, or early morning, except for you. Very early morning that is.”

 

Nick chuckled, “No, just forgot to swing by for the groceries earlier.”

 

“Yes, but a normal mammal wouldn’t be that bothered to drive to a store that is already closed, walk into a bar behind it, and then asks for the owner for privileged access.”

 

The machine was still processing the card, and the little ellipses on the touchscreen panel kept on blinking steadily as the words “please wait” remained unchanged in its display.

 

* * *

 

By one twenty-eight in the morning, after a few more turns and “STOP” signs, Nick finally reached his last destination. The car pulled up a few inches away from the painted curb, just behind a large-sized minivan that was parked a little off onto the street. On his right was a six-story tall building that housed roughly more than forty apartments wall-to-wall.

 

The building was constructed about six years ago, squeezed between two other mid-rise apartments buildings rivaling in height and size, and didn’t really stand out from the other buildings on its sides. There wasn’t anything for people to marvel at, in terms of the dull color of the exterior. Even the small, framed marble sign next to the double-door entrance bearing the place’s name looked unappealing. A typical look of apartments building in the Southern part of Savanna Central.

 

The monthly rent wasn’t something to repulse mammals from living there, but none of the apartments were posted at low prices, either. The numbers were high enough to keep Nick hard at work to receive that end-of-month paycheck from the department. Living in a box under a bridge and surfing couches weren’t exactly what one would expect a ZPD detective to do, and Nick had no intention of doing it.

 

Where he lived happened to be close to the ZPD headquarter, so it was sort of an added bonus to having a convenience store across the street and numerous dining places around the block. Parking could be a problem at certain times, but luckily, a multi-story parking lot wasn’t too awfully far away from his building. A twenty-minute drive to the beach and an extra ten to get to Sahara Square wasn’t too bad of a deal for living in an ugly building.

 

The only inconvenience that he could think of was the constant blaring of the fire trucks’ horns from a nearby fire station whenever there was a fire. Sometimes, they would startle him in his sleep, cut off a conversation, or disrupt his train of thoughts while he is at the desk working on a case. Although he was glad of the fact that he wouldn’t have to stress out if a fire broke loose in the building, Nick still regarded the nearby fire station as a minor inconvenience.

 

_Speaking of the Devil_

 

Overly loud whoops came from the distant just when Nick unhooked his seat belt and pulled the handle on the car door. He immediately jerked the door back to shut it as a train of two fire engines and an ambulance rounded a corner and swiftly rushed by him, breaking the sacred silence of the night as they sped toward an almost invisible column of rising smoke somewhere far away in the other side of the district.

 

“Another day, another idiot,” the fox mumbled with a slight headshake.

 

Wedging the files under one arm and hauling the bags of produces in the other, he entered the building and strolled to the end of the hallway, where the elevators were. After punching the call button for the lift, the fox stepped back and waited as the heavy metal box whirred it's way down.

 

Nick had never felt comfortable taking the elevators and had had ideas about how many unfortunate scenarios could play out. It was partly because of how old and outdated the lifts were, judging by the clearly noticeable mechanical sound of the gears and belt laboring. The doors squeak every time they opened or closed, and that alone gave him second thoughts on stepping inside the confined, gapless metal cages.

 

But he wasn't planning on carrying all of that weight and march up to the top floor of the building. Today is just isn't the day for an after work workout. Besides, the ride shouldn’t be that bad. Nothing wrong had ever happened from what he’d known according to his time staying at the place and also the neighbors who preceded him.

 

The reluctant fox stepped into the lift after the pair of thick, metallic door slid open, and quickly hit the topmost button. He wanted to get out of that cold, metal box as soon as possible.

 

The sooner, the better, the fox thought as the dim hallway gradually got closed up. He repeated the same words in his head until the lift had reached its destination and the doors slid apart again. He heaved a sigh of relief while stepping out.

 

His apartment happened to be the third from last down the corridor, on the North side of the building, the one with the unusual-looking door. By “unusual,” like his neighboring mammal had described, it was because his was a glaucous-blue instead of the uniform chestnut-brown like all other households. The story as to why was a rather long and complicated one.

 

The fox stopped at before the door, reaching to grab the silver knob, but then immediately paused as a confused frown formed itself on his weary face.

 

“Wait,” Nick muttered.

 

Something wasn’t right. He was standing in the right building, on the right floor, and at the right door, but he felt as if he wasn’t supposed to go through that door, which led to his apartment.

 

Then, he remembered.

 

“Wrong destination,” the reynard did a half-circle turn and stepped toward the door of the apartment opposite to his.

Before knocking, the fox made sure he looked as lively as possible and tried to hide the wariness that was evident on his eyelids. Then, he formed a knuckle and raised it against the door. Four firm knocks were all he needed. But, after a few short minutes void of any responses, he tried again. _Sleeping, maybe?_ Nick pondered as he waited and stared at the closed wooden door. Still no answers, so he attempted once more.

 

The subtle sound of slippers against marble titles came from the other side and got a little more audible as it approached the door. Then, the flopping sound stopped. The metallic clinking of the door chain being unlocked rattled and a short click followed soon after, but the door was still shut closed. Being as patient as he possibly could, thanks to the now overwhelming sleepiness, Nick stood still at where he was and continued with the waiting game.

 

Another click and a slight crack appeared between the door and its frame, flooded with soft, golden light.

 

A snowy, furry face peeked out from behind the door.

 

He looked at her. She stared at him. He forced an apologetic smile. She returned it with unimpressed brows. He tried to keep that smile for as long as possible without making it look awkward or creepy, but signs of struggling soon crawl onto his face. Still, no changes in her expression. Finally, he gave up and let it all droop down - ears and all. It was only then that her face changed to something other than the deadly silent stare. With a little extra something.

 

“You’re late, Detective. The burglar already got away with your dinner.”

 

The vixen said in a jokingly dismissive manner after a short giggle, accompanied by a smug look. Her attempt at the typical elite British accent as seen in movies and TV shows made Nick smiled. Her sudden recent interest in British television gave rise to another accent of hers that he’d heard almost all day every day. Not something he would have ever expected, but he loved it as much as he loved her native Californian accent.

 

“No leftovers?” Nick said, raising the bags of groceries.

 

“Mm-hmm.” She replied affirmatively and let the door yawned open as she stepped back. “No leftovers at all.”

 

Nick closed the door behind him and went to set the bags and the files on the bartop, “Whoa, what kind of burglar steals leftovers as well?”

 

“The kind that waited for two hours, finished a season of TV show, and was about to fall asleep on the sofa.” The white fox pushed the hinge lock to its secure position and reset the small chain.

 

He didn’t expect that. Sort of, but not in that kind of response.

 

Nick spun around slowly as he formulated an apology in his head. He was figuring the words and how to put them together to rival the sassiness in her tone, but as soon as he turned around, she was already inches away from his snout.

 

Her slender arms wrapped around his shoulders as she pulled herself in and locked him in a warming hug. Her cheek pressed against his as she said, “I’m just messing with you.” Followed up with that was a soft peck on the red fox’s cheek as she leaned back. “How was the trip?”

 

 _Phew_ , the tod sighed internally. “Same as last year. Nothing different much. I bought him flowers, hung out with him for a little bit, you know, talked about things that dads and their son would talk about. A little chillier, though.” He ended it with a chuckle that gained him another peck on his lips.

 

“He’d be proud to know that home came for him, Nick.”

 

A sniffle came from the red fox that made his vixen raise a brow.

 

“It’s chilly.” He said, trying to hold his emotion in with the excuse and a smile.

 

“I’ve never seen you cried, Nick Wilde. But, I don’t mind seeing it for once.”  She winked and gave him a nudge before pulling away to attend to the groceries.

 

“Not a single chance, Miss Houser.”

 

Nick sucked in a long breath and let it out as he indulged himself in the heart-warming and welcoming air of the place. Of home.

 

_Home._


	2. Chapter I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun working on the first section of this chapter, and it's also the reason why it took me a while to finish this. But, here it is. :)
> 
> Note: Pardon me for my inability to write in proper grammar, occasional misspellings, and incomprehensible contents. English is a beautiful language, but it’s not my native language, though I’m still striving for further improvements. 
> 
> Rated M for: strong language, suggestive themes, use of violence (and excessive violence).

Chapter I: First Day

* * *

 

C major chord, if he remembered it correctly from the times he spent learning basic music theory, is one of the most - if not, the most - popular chords in the world of music. It’s the beginning of many songs he had known, and sometimes, also the perfect closing for the ones he loved. It’s flexibility in chord progressions and its ability to bring forth the feeling of liveliness for a beginning, as well as a sense of somber regret or finality for a song’s end, were the only reasons Nick could see as the explanation for the key signature’s common appearance in the musical world.

 

Who would have thought of a series of piano keys played simultaneously would give birth to such a mesmerizing sound, of which could build an entire composition of delights and sometimes, sorrow. Quite a genius, to be sure.

 

As the golden dawn sluggishly crawled its way beyond the skyscrapers on the horizon, that sound of a familiar chord slipped into his ears.

 

The fox moved not a single inch of himself as he lied near-motionless on the pure white sheet of the queen size bed that both he and his sweetheart had been sharing for many nights. His head sunk into the feather-light pillow, shoulder cradled by the soft mattress, and a fleece blanket of matching color draped over the lower half of his furry, semi-nude body that kept his slumber warm, and his dreams warmer.

 

Both of his triangular ears were folded against his head, but they could still capture every note and tone of the arrangement that was playing. Every crescendo and decrescendo, every light changes in the tone of the song as an extra key was added in or taken out. Most of all, he could hear her.

 

That sweet, warm, and tender voice of an alto whispering her magic into the words of the greatest song of the twentieth century, singing along with the soft rhythm that went from C major to C major seventh, and then ended with the strange-sounding, yet captivating F chord before repeating again. The song was in its most stripped down version, with only her voice and the accompanying piano chords and arpeggios.

 

They had only bought the decently manufactured and affordable keyboard the month before, but almost every day since, he would hear her unfolding her magic on it, be it in the early dawn or the late hours after moonrise. 

 

He could listen to her lecturing about quantum physics or any related scienc-y topic for an entire day without ever getting tired. Sure, maybe he would understand about seventeen percent of the things, but that wasn’t the point of it. He simply just want to listen to her voice for the rest of eternity and beyond infinity.

 

“You may say I’m a dreamer,”

 

A subtle smile drew from the corners of his maw as the white vixen approached the song’s final chorus. He might be a decent piece of work in terms of detective businesses, but he sure had not a single clue as to how long he’d been listening to his darling on her keyboard. Before he knew it, her honey-sweet tone concluded the song, and the fading chord gave it an uplifting sense of finality and relief that soften Nick’s face as the smile widened itself - something that he didn’t notice, but Leah did.

 

When the serene silence of the morning came on, Nick’s focus shifted to how comfortable he was. He didn’t want to leave his nest of coziness, to toss the cloak of warmth off his body, let alone to even get changed for work. He could lay there in their bed for the rest of the day just to be near his mammal of perfection. He wanted to, to be precise. However, the other fox wasn’t in much of agreement.

 

The bed bounced and wobbled as it carried another mammal’s weight, but that did not seem to bother Nick one bit. He was as still as a sculpture of flesh and fur, indulging in his bed of roses while the sun shone its warming rays onto his complexions, and was completely aware of the stalking predator behind him who was approaching with every wobble the bed made.

 

One, two, he counted, waiting for the strike to commence. He was curious to see how it was going to go.

 

Soon enough, Nick got what he wanted and had hoped for. 

 

Fingers gently tapped on his arm, sending a wave of tingling sensation that he was more than eager to feel. When her chin gracefully landed on his shoulder, that intimate feeling only amplified in ways he could not contain. So, he peeked open one eye to steal a glance at the angel bestowed upon him.

 

The glorious rays of golden light coming through the transparent slide door shone onto the snow fox’s fur coat, casting a halo around her countenance. The cherry blossom pink nightdress hung from her shoulders, veiling the white fox’s healthily slim bare body. There’s the angel, Nick thought to himself as his heart melt from the sight of such delicacy, such loveliness, and such symmetry. 

 

She met him, and with a quiet giggle, greeted him with a touch of her index on his nose, “Are you gonna stay like that for the whole day?”

 

“Well, good morning to you, too, beautiful.” The red fox returned his answer in the suavest tone he could pull off. It was his first sentence of the day, and he was sure it didn’t sound like how it was supposed to be, but she probably didn’t notice that. 

 

A little smirk of content followed as he continued, “And yes, indeed. But guess what? I’m planning to do that with you.”

 

“You’re just going to skip work?” She questioned, curious to see what her foxy partner was going to come up with.

 

“Yes, let’s just take a day off, you and me. We can just lie here with this blanket over us,” the sleepyhead said, working his way to get the fleece cloak to cover both of them. “Do nothing else other than cuddling and kissing.”

 

“Cuddling and kissing?” She raised her brow.

 

“Maybe a little love-making, too.”

 

By the time Nick finished his suggestions, both foxes were cozily covered by the large white coat of warmth that was more than enough for the two of them. Nick had rolled over onto his back and had set up himself up as a pillow for his girlfriend, who had made herself as comfortable as she could be by letting her head rest on the red fox’s torso as it rose and fell in a slow rhythm.

 

“Mm, doesn’t sound bad, actually.” The white fox burrowed her cheek a little deeper into the coat of red-orange fur and let her body fall into the snugness of her partner’s embrace. 

 

Her fingers drew little circles and ovals on Nick’s chest as if they were tattooing shapes of flowers onto the fox. Nick took her drawing hand and caressed it in his, gently massaging each finger, of which all held the magic to bring orderly arranged symbols on a piece of paper to life. While holding her, he wondered how could such personification of beauty and elegance exist, let alone became a part of his life. 

 

He’d always told himself that he was one lucky bastard after the night they both met at the Desert Palm casino in Sahara Square. For every single thing of his own that he despises of, she’s able to find and bring out the better qualities.

 

After almost two years of dining together, sleeping together, and even showering together, he’d thought of finally making it official. To close the gap and tighten that bond between them. But, he needed a ring, and he wasn’t planning on cashing in for something ordinary. No, he wanted it to be special, to be something that would be unique, distinct from all other proposal rings. Something that when mammals look at it, they would know that it is the proof for the unbreakable chain of love between Nicholas Wilde and Leah Houser. And he knew such demand would definitely come at a high price. 

 

But, come hell or high water, that ring would be in his hand one day, and he would be on his knee, presenting her his promise of undying love.

 

Nick brought the vixen’s hand up to his lips and kissed it. He lingered on to her as he took in all of that tenderness of her palm, that softness of her fur, and that so very special fragrance of hers. One day, he gave the unspoken promise through a loving gaze.

 

For the whole silent twenty minutes of the morning, the couple lied in their bed in one another’s embrace, basking in the golden sunlight as each was occupied by their own thought. One could safely assume that both were thinking about each other.

 

The bedroom was flooded with sunlight, which really brought out the creamy-tan color of the walls.

 

There were reasons for Nick to make the decision to move in with his girlfriend rather than letting her do the moving. First, he had three times less of the stuff to move around, and almost none of them were fragile items like vases of flowers and framed oil paintings. His most valued possessions were a watch that he kept enclosed in a box, and a six-string, cutaway acoustic guitar. Second and last, her apartment happened to have the best view of the city with an addition of a railed balcony that caught all of the breezes and whispers of the February wind. The picture provided by the window of his apartment was nothing more than a parking lot full of cars and a gigantic building that blocked the rest of the scenery. 

 

But, that didn’t mean he’d returned the apartment to the landlord. Leah insisted that they both keep it for future uses, or reorganize it into a storage unit for the many miscellaneous things they both had. Another reason was in case they separated ways, then at least none of them would have to go house hunting. 

 

“Judy called yesterday,” Leah said as she tilted her head back a little to look at her fox. 

 

“Judy who?”

 

“Hopps. Judy Hopps. Your former police partner?” She was somewhat surprised that he even asked.

 

“Oh, right.”

 

He hadn’t seen the bunny for almost three years ever since she moved away to a nearby metropolis that was comparable to Zootopia. He thought it was good for her since all of the skills that she possessed were better utilized somewhere else other than the four districts of the utopian city. After the whole Night Howler incident, everything seemed to just die down, and the charts were there to speak for themselves. Although, after what had been happening lately, the fox began to doubt that the quiet period was going to last.

 

“How’s she?” Nick asked. He wanted to know how his former partner had been holding up. Their last phone call was about two months ago.

 

“From what I could tell, she seems to be doing just alright. Even got herself a boyfriend in the force.” The vixen chuckled as she relayed what Judy had told her.

 

“That’s good for her. Everyone needs a partner in life.”

 

Nick had never told Leah about the relationship between him and Judy, other than that they were colleagues and close friends. He thought there was nothing to say about the five-month-long relationship that resulted in nothing fruitful. Judy had her differences, and so did he. Things just didn’t work out, and in the end, both went their separate ways, but at the same also made a promise to keep in touch with each other - as friends, that is.  

 

Their last phone call lasted for about six minutes before one of them had to run off to save the day.

 

“What about you, Detective?”

 

Nick looked down at the vixen, “What about me?”

 

“You got someone special in life to call ‘partner’ ?”

 

Nick took his time to come up with something, and when he had something, a sigh not of disappointment, but of content preceded his answer, “Well, I sure have a foxy lady in my custody that I’m not planning to release anytime soon.”

 

That answer rewarded him with a caressing touch on his cheek and a smooch that followed as Leah got herself to his eye level. In return, he pulled himself in and landed one on her forehead.

 

Both nuzzled each other and enjoyed one another’s sensual touches as their tails wrapped around themselves like an extra fluffy blanket. Nick could tell that she was taking in all of those little kisses that he’d landed along her the side of her neck, and the pleasure that was shown in her amused smiles and occasional suppressed chuckles only encouraged him to take it further than both had planned for the morning.

 

In just a minute later, Nick was already working the vixen’s nightgown, lifting and letting the strings fall off her shoulders where he continued his assault of teasing pecks. Taking his time just like the world’s greatest artist with his work of a lifetime, the red fox leisurely pulled down on the silky fabric, slipping it off each strand of pure white fur. He then indulged himself in her body by pressing his snout against the heavenly body, causing the arctic fox the let an erotic moan escape. The day was starting out too unbelievably perfect that it all seemed like a dream for the both of them.

 

Then, an unexpected, yet known, disruptor came whooshing by with its shrieks and bellows.

 

Leah jumped at the sound of the whooping siren and blaring outside their apartment. Nick held back a laugh to the best of his ability, not daring to let it all out. “Damn those firetrucks,” she said, soon joined the red fox with soft chuckles of her own.

 

“I supposed we should get going, too.” The female mammal sighed as she pulled the strings of her dress back on and climbed off Nick.

 

Damn those firetrucks, alright, Nick thought as he bitterly watched his lady sitting at the edge of the bed.

 

“No morning kisses?” He asked in an attempt to get something more out of their morning.

 

“You already have plenty,” She replied, shooting him a glance that made Nick bring out his puppy eyes.

 

Leah sighed in defeat and rolled her eyes, but drew a smile and crawled back to him. “You baby,” she teased before pressing her lips against his.

 

As for Nick, a grin of victory snuck itself onto his delighted canine face while he reveled in his own successful persuasion. He wasn’t going to make that kiss a short one and planned to savor every second of it. But, not everything always goes according to his plan.

 

A pair of fingers suddenly pushed his muzzle to the side, breaking him away from the intimate ritual and leaving the fox confused and disappointed. 

 

“Brush your teeth.” Leah gave him a playful tap on his snout before making her way out of the bedroom. 

 

They weren’t young adults or teenagers anymore; he was approaching his late thirties, and she was already in the middle of her third decade, but that didn’t stop interactions like these from spawning time to time. And both of them loved it just the way it was.

 

After the vixen had disappeared into the kitchen and the stove began clicking, Nick lied in the same place as he was and stared at the cream-painted ceiling above him. He started to think of how this morning had been going so well, and how it could have been much better if it wasn’t for those firetrucks.

 

Always the firetrucks.

 

And with that thought lingering in mind, the fox finally climbed down from his cozy nest and stretched his limbs before strolling to the bathroom for his morning hygiene routine.

 

And the thought of how the fire-engines ruined his moment rode along with him into the running shower.

 

* * *

 

After a speedy shower with mildly warm water, Nick was finishing up the buttons on his pale green shirt. He made sure that each was in its correct place, and checked the collar in the small mirror panel above the white ceramic basin. He looked at the fox in the reflection and thought that his attire seemed to be missing something, only to dismiss the thought after seeing that his uniform consisted of a long-sleeve shirt, nickel gray trousers, and a faux leather belt was good enough for his line of work. The missing jacket was probably what bugged him, he thought.

 

Nick got a hold of the comb and ran it along the hair on the top of his head, as well as down on the back of his neck. A few unnoticed, loose strands of red fur fell on the floor as the comb ran through. 

 

When he was finally done with the preparation, Nick headed out into the kitchen, following where his nose was leading him as it picked up the mouth-watering smell of breakfast. 

 

“Is it a requirement to always dress up for work?” Leah shot a playful look followed by a smile at him as she set the plates of food down on the fox-size dining table.

 

“Maybe. But, it is always a requirement to dress up for the lady of the household.” Nick swooped down and planted a quick kiss on her as he walked over to the fridge for the carton of apple juice. On the way there, his hand grabbed the TV controller from the bartop, and the early model LCD screen lit up momentarily. By the time Nick got back to the table with two glasses of juice in his hand, the regular morning show had come up with a series of stories for the day.

 

“... is going to officially sign a $40 billion deal with Animalia’s National Defense Office, in which the company will supply a stockade of highly advanced ground-to-air missiles, later this week. This will be the nation’s first arms contract since ten years ago...”

 

“Oh, boy, that’s a lot of money.” Nick paused his sip of juice after hearing the announcement from the news anchor.

 

“We have with us here this morning the CEO of Exodus, Garry Warrick.”

 

Nick usually didn’t care much for national affairs and the likes and had no interests in the big corporates, but the name did ring a few bells for him. As much as he’d heard from the news and the gossips at work, Garry Warrick was the typical rich mammal who was born into a wealthy family and later became the head of the company that he subsequently inherited from the parents. As for the hyena’s company, Nick only knew that they make advanced medical equipment and dangerous technology in service of peacekeeping.

 

When a sharp-dressed hyena stepped on the stage of the studio, rounds of applause and cheers came on in the background. The image of a gawky and skinny mammal wouldn’t be something that Nick had had in mind when he first heard of the entrepreneur, and the physique of the billionaire was something Nick probably could never get used to seeing. A mammal with money overflowing from his pockets, and yet he couldn’t get any extra pound of flesh on him.

 

“All that money and he couldn’t get any extra weight on him,” Leah said exactly what Nick just thought, and the red tod just nodded along as he dug into his plate of omelet and toasts. 

 

Sometimes, he wondered if having all of that money would be any good. He didn’t need to end up looking like Garry Warrick if that was all the big number was going to bring. The fox liked it the way he was, despite being recently got called out as ‘malnourished-looking’ by his best buddy from the old days. But, he was gaining an extra pound or two thanks to the fantastic cooking of his vixen and was on his way back to a better diet.

 

“ … this will be a step up for Animalia in terms of displaying the country’s military strength, and it’s not just displaying only. It’s, uh,… It’s- It’s a whole new improvement on top of the already excellent national defense and security, really.” The hyena stuttered but managed to finish his explanation, accompanied by a series of hand gestures.

 

“But, some mammal say that there seems to be no need for such an arsenal of formidable technology. They say that there had not been a single national emergency for ten, almost eleven, years, therefore, the existence of a highly advanced weapon is simply unnecessary. What is your opinion on those statements, Mr. Warrick?”

 

Nick eyed the hyena in the red armchair when his arched back leaned forward, and his hands clasped together as if he was making a prayer. “Well,” he started, but then stopped as if something got his tongue, and flickered his eyes from one side to another. He then continued, “not to impose a pessimistic view on the world, but we all have seen the news from around the world, of what’s going on between... certain countries. The tensions, the relentless violence resulting from differences of politics, of religions, and beliefs. World peace, in my opinion, is currently standing on a very thin strand of fishing line. It’s there, it’s strong, but it won’t last forever…”

 

“That’s depressing to know,” Nick commented while chowing down on a mouthful of egg and toast.

 

“I don’t think it’s necessarily true about what he said.” Leah joined in after she set her glass down.

 

The red fox lightly shrugged his shoulders as a sharp line formed between his pressed lips. “True to some degree.”

 

“... what we are doing is simply making sure that our country is and will be safe from any possible external threats. I hardly see what’s wrong with tha-”

 

The LCD screen emitted a short and faint high-pitched sound, followed by the sudden void of images and light as Nick turned it off.  “And that’s enough news for today.” 

 

Interviews like the one he’d barely watched through weren’t always the hot stuff to pop up every single morning whenever the TV was on. Today just happened to be a particular day where problems of days before were dumped into a session which only dragged them on for the upcoming days. People always say it’s news, but the way he’d seen it, it was just the same old thing being refurbished.

  
  


When his belly was full of goodness, and his brain was awake enough for operation, Nick threw on his gray outerwear and retrieved the holster for his service weapons from the bedroom and set it where it belonged: concealed from the public eyes under the layers of fabric. 

 

The Xeus 34 long-range taser was by far his most used weapon and happened to be considered as the only necessary tool of violence for him. The shock-inducing gun exceeds at what it’s designed and promoted for: stopping mammals of all sizes. With adjustable level of electricity and a comfortable, effective range for the wired projectiles, the Xeus was the most used “firearm” among ZPD officers across almost all ranks. 

 

Resided closely to his preferred weapon of incapacitation was the standard issued Kolt 1191A4, custom-matched with his palm size. The gun was capable of stopping offenders just as well as the Xeus taser, but with added lethality that can undoubtedly respond to situations where knocking a mammal out isn’t enough. Nick had never fired it once and hoped that it would stay that way.

 

Finally, sitting not too far from the holster, but more visible to the naked eyes was his badge. This certificate of qualification was slightly different from the one he started out with: it still has that shiny brass plate with the ZPD insignia imprinted on it, but the word “Detective” and the name of his division are placed on top and below the star, instead. 

 

His division? Homicide & Robbery. The branch of Zootopia Police Department with the least amount of member.

 

“Alright, babe, you’re all set.”  

 

Nick took the plastic container preserving his lunch as Leah handed it to him. He pulled the vixen in and closed his arms around her. She did the same, but in her own way with arms around his neck followed by a squeeze that she seemed to never had the intention of letting go. 

 

When she pulled back to look at him in the eyes, Nick saw all of her affection for him, as well as all of the worries.

 

“Be safe out there.”

 

“Always am.”

 

“Don’t get hurt.”

 

“Never do.”

 

“Don’t hurt no one.”

 

It took Nick an unusual pause before he replied, “I’ll try my best.”

 

He wasn’t going to make a promise to his lady and end up breaking it. Hurting mammals wasn’t his job, but it was an un-excludable part of his line of work.

 

They gave each other a kiss before breaking away and bidding farewell. Nick unhooked the key for his Doge from the key box as he headed for the door, where he turned back and said, ”You, too, honey. Be safe around those drunk gamblers. You know what they’re like all the time.”

 

“Don’t worry, Nick. Security’s tight all the time. Plus, I don’t deal with drunkards.”

 

Even though she assured him many times before, he had always felt that it was necessary. “Just the precautions.”

 

When he saw the smile on her bright, lovely face, a sign of content and assurance manifested itself through the half-cocked smile that he unknowingly put on.

 

“Go save the day, Detective.”

 

* * *

 

Since his work hours started sixty minutes later than most mammals’, sitting in an unmoving mass of vehicles in the morning wasn’t something Nick had to worry about. It didn’t take long to get from the apartment to the precinct, so he was in no rush, either. With a bit of spare time lying around, the fox went for a detour solely for the purpose of seeing the neighborhoods and its inhabitants.

 

As his car rolled down Greenwich street, his eyes caught the friendly beacon of flashing red and blue light on the side of the road. So, he turtled to a complete stop next to the black and white cruiser and lowered the tinted window on the passenger door.

 

A timberwolf stepped from the other side of the bulky vehicle and approached the black Doge before resting a hand on the car roof as she lowered down to poke her head through the opened window.

 

“Wilde! Taking a scenery tour?” she greeted with a grin, to which the fox replied with one of his own as he lifted the pair of gold-frame aviators and set it on his forehead.

 

“What you got there, Officer Lynnette?” Nick nodded at the scene behind the wolf, where another mammal in blue was talking indistinctively with a jackal whose hands were cuffed behind its back. 

 

Nick recognized the larger mammal in power as Officer Lebrowski from the various time of bumping into the boar at the precinct’s canteen.

 

“Kid blew a red light. We pulled him over and asked for ID, which he does not have.”

 

“Why the cuffs, then?”

 

“Guess what we found.”

 

“Cannabis?”

 

“Nuh-uh. Alcohol. Two bottles of rum sitting on the floor on the passenger side, both already opened with one only top at inches over half of the bottle.” The she-wolf proudly presented the case to the detective while he nodded slowly. “Tested his alcohol level, as well. Kid wasn’t wasted, but definitely was in no condition to drive.”

 

“Youths and their invincible mindsets. Lucky that he blew a red light and not somebody.” 

 

The timber-fur hound heaved a somewhat relieved sigh in agreement, “Clean up would be a hell of a mess. Anyway, how’s your end?”

 

“Ah, you know, same old, same old. More paperwork than actual crime-busting.”

 

“Oh, yeah?”

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

Kiana Lynnette was one of those few at ZPD who had been supporting him since his day one as an official peacekeeper of the city. Most didn’t see how a creature of his kind could ever fit in such prestigious and honorable role, and he couldn’t keep a decent count of how many glares and cold-shoulders he’d received while walking through the precinct, or the streets, in the past years.

 

But, Kiana was above most of the other mammals in the force, even though she wore the same uniform and bore the same ranks. She gave Nick all of the respect that one ZPD officer should give to another. He’d remembered that she had told him that it took quite the guts to break away from the social norms and stereotypes to become who he wanted to be, and that she was grateful to have him on the force. The fox was sure that maybe less than half of what was said about him was true, but he appreciated it. It certainly made his job more tolerable.

 

“Hey, I think you better get going. Captain was looking for you before he remembered that you don’t show up until nine.” The wolf patted the door of the car as she backed away.

 

“I think he wants my autograph for the next album. Catch you later!” Nick brought his sunglasses back down and bid goodbye with his two fingers in a simple flicking forward motion.

 

Once he’d received the same gesture from the wolf as the window slid all the way up, Nick pressed on the gas pedal and drove toward the precinct. He looked in the rearview mirror to take a look at the traffic stop one last time before setting his eyes back on the road.

 

* * *

 

From fifteen feet away from outside of the familiar conference room, Nick’s ears could pick up all of those chaotic chattering and louder-than-acceptable bursts of laugh coming from the other side of the door. It became a regular thing that most mammals in the offices in the vicinity ended up either getting used to it, or ignoring it altogether. Nick was one of those who accepted it as part of the morning ambiance.

 

But, it wasn’t his destination anymore. Instead, the room on the right of it - the only one in the right hallway that led to nowhere else but a dead end wall - was where he’d been reporting to almost every morning, three times a week. The place was for mammals of roles similar, or identical, to his. 

 

Everyone liked to call it the “Detective Room.”

 

As Nick twisted the knob and stepped inside the room, the sharp contrast between this one and his former conference room was clearer than the waters of the Maldives. Everyone was either occupied with something by themselves, or whispering to another about miscellaneous things. Occasionally, someone would make his or her presence known in the room by shouting to someone else on the other side of the rows of tables, but that would be it. There were no loud yapping or rudely laugh-out-louds. 

 

It was probably because there weren’t many mammals in the room, either. Less than ten mammals ought to not cause that much noise pollution when most of them are sparsely spread out in the place. Not that the division only had many such detectives on duty, but those nine were the only ones assigned to the mandatory morning meeting session. The rest are either gathered at an hour before lunch, or at the end of the day.

 

Nick took his usual seat in the front row of desks to the left of the room, on the aisle side, and sat there waiting for the Captain to show up for attendance and the mandatory weekly briefs.

 

Usually, his assigned partner, Derek Willems, would occupy the empty chair on the other end of the table where the fox sat, but when the lynx broke his arm a few days ago in pursuit, the seat had been collecting dust and nothing else. Yet, today, it wasn’t empty like he had expected it to be.

 

Instead of Willems or another detective that he knew, it was a mammal he’d never seen before. Sitting attentively in the chair designed for creatures of large sizes, with both hands formed into a tight- knitted ball, and a bright, excited look on the face, was a fox. A red fox just like him, to be precise.

 

Questions had written themselves all over Nick’s puzzled face as he settled down and scanned her with a glance or two. White collared shirt properly tucked in, a slim-fit, morning blue blazer jacket on the outside, a pair of casual jeans, and what seemed to be a pair of generic-looking sneakers. She looked in her young twenties, with a shade of lighter red fur, and a typical female body build that showed the curves of her femininity, yet also display her potential strength. Bright sapphire eyes that constantly shifted from one corner of her vision to another as if she was trying to locate something out of the messy handwriting on the whiteboard.

 

Looked like one of his own, but there was no badge in sight.

 

As Nick was attempting to study her more without making any social interactions, the red vixen’s eyes darted over in the direction of the reynard, and for an unexpected, awkward second, they stared straight at each other. One of them broke the line of sight immediately after while the other carried on and was baffled at the existence of one of their own kind sitting in a room for ZPD detectives.

 

Feeling that saying something and formally introducing himself would undo the awkwardness, Nick picked his chair up and moved over as close as he thought would be appropriate for an introduction. The other fox noticed this and gave Nick her full attention and curiosity. But, before any of them could say “hello,” the door yawned open, and the captain entered with a stack of yellow folders under one arm. 

 

The overseer of the Homicide - Robbery division was a stout-looking leopard with a default stoic look on his face. The patches of silvery-gray hair and subtle folds of wrinkle on his forehead screamed that this was a mammal who had seen, and definitely experienced, many things within five decades of his life.

 

His attire was always the same every time Nick saw him: striped white shirt with suspenders over his shoulders, abyss black chinos paired with shiny Oxfords of the same color, and most distinctively, a matte black oval patch that covered one of the golden irises.

 

The eye patch had become a trademark for Captain Harold Hamilton ever since he arrived at the precinct many years before Nick. Mammals frequently thought it was an odd choice of fashion and would ask questions about the patch, but for the leopard, it was more than a piece of clothing addon.

 

“Ladies! Full attention for our Captain.” A jaguar commanded, and all shambled their way to get on their feet, though, not everyone was giving the mammal in charge the attention required. 

Captain Hamilton didn’t seem to notice, or didn’t care enough for, the lack of order or discipline among the standing detectives, much less the presence of a newcomer, and dismissively gestured for all to ease off. Once all had settled among themselves, he began.

 

“I’m not gonna say good morning since we all know mornings are not that good. Straight to what we have for today.” The leopard took a pause and glanced up from his clipboard. His eye bounced from one mammal to another until it got to the last detective. Then, he looked back down at the piece of paper and quickly worked through it.

 

“Good. You’re all here. Now, to business.” The captain held up a folder in one hand.

 

The lack of mention about a new face among the Homicide-Robbery division had Nick intrigued about whether the vixen was someone already on the force for quite the time and he didn’t notice her from time to time, or the captain had simply forgotten about her being in the room, watching him with attentive eyes and ears.

 

Whatever it was, Nick rolled along with it as the case debriefs began.

 

“Detective Mahony and Castle, status on your case.”

 

“Waiting for CSI to report back on those evidence at the O'Hare estates.” A Bengal tiger seated at the back of the room responded. Next to her was a cougar resting in the chair that he’d rocked back on its two feet, and his crossed feet wiggled side to side on the table. Detective Alicia Mahony and detective John Castle were the names.

 

Hamilton didn’t take a look at the case file assigned to the two Senior Detectives before moving on to the next one. Nick could only guess that progress was slow enough to throw the Captain’s interest off it.

 

“Colby and Kritzer.”

 

“The ballistic report should come back by today’s afternoon.” Detective Samuel Colby, a one-horn ram sitting at the desk two rows behind Nick’s, spoke up. His partner, Johann, joined in, “If those cases match with the ones we found at the primary crime scene, then chances are that we got the right guy.”

 

The leopard in command nodded as he flipped through the pages, seemingly agreed with the pair of detectives. “What about the furs?”

 

“Those are his, sir. Positively matched.”

 

“Good, good. Alright, detective Ling and detective Hendrich.”

 

As the hands on the clock shifted forward, so did the number of reports from the detectives left to cover. When the pair of detective Ryan Chadman and Titus Bosch were done with the status report, Nick and the unknown red fox was the last two in the room to have not been called by the captain.

 

“Alright, keep doing what you’re doing, Detectives. I’m looking forward to some good news on our next meeting. Class dismissed.”

 

As mammals began to shuffle out of the room to go on with their days, Nick’s unanswered questions grew in numbers until they couldn’t be contained anymore. “Sir?”

 

“Didn’t forget about you, Wilde, or you, Whittaker.” Hamilton cut him off while setting the folders aside. He then motioned both foxes to come up to him.

 

The closer he got to Hamilton, the bigger the leopard appeared and the more intimidating his look was.

 

Once both mammals were standing side by side before him, Hamilton said as he crossed hands behind him. “I hope that you two have gotten to know each other, considering the fact that I saw you two sat at the same desk.”

 

“Well,” Nick began but got stopped again by the captain’s stern voice.

 

“If not, then let me. Detective Wilde, this is Katherine Whittaker. Katherine Whittaker, this is Detective Nicholas Wilde.” The captain motioned between the two as he said.

 

Nick turned to Katherine and gave a little head bow before coming back up with a smirk, “Well, I guess we’re formally introduced now.”

 

“Whittaker here will be your apprentice and new partner. She’s one of the top three graduates that came out of the academy, been on ZPD Patrol Unit for a week or so before our Chief decided to put her on an ‘internship’ for the Homicide-Robbery division because of that new application program thing from the academy. What is it called again?”

 

“Um, I think it’s-”

 

“Right, that’s what it’s called,” The red vixen didn’t get to finish her sentence before Hamilton pressed on. “So, Wilde, you will be overseeing and training her in our procedures and the likes. If it’s true that you fresh rookies have the skills to fit in with our line of work, then I expect them to not be wasted on busting speedsters and drunk drivers.”

 

The bombardment of information left Nick with a look of confusion as the smile on his face faded away into something else. He didn’t sign up for a partner change, although it was nice to have someone else, but he didn’t ask for a babysitting job, either. 

 

Nick held up his palms like he was trying to stop some invisible force, “Wait, wait, wait. Apprentice? Partner? What happened to Willems?”

 

“Remember when you ran him over and broke one of his arm?”

 

“Technically, it was the suspect who got my feet flooring the gas pedal,” Nick rebuked. 

 

“He was on leave for a few days, but guess who our Patrol boys and girls found last night at an uptown bar trying to bludgeon a patron with a bottle of tequila while being drunker than an Irish sailor?”

 

“Was the bottle full, or empty?” Katherine hopped in the conversation with a question that got her a raised brow of disapproval from Nick. 

“Half-full.”

 

“Hold on, hold on. Willems was in a bar fight last night?” Nick inquired.

 

“He’s the one started it.” The captain added.

 

“Christ.” 

 

Nick knew that Derek Willems was a hot-headed mammal who couldn’t keep it in his pants, but the fox did not expect his partner, or former partner, doing something so beyond dumb.

 

“So, according to the policy, he’s on indefinite leave for now. Might not get his job back, I’d say.”

 

“Yikes.” Katherine chirped in quietly after the long pause that followed the captain’s statement and Nick’s sigh.

 

“Justice can’t not take roots amid rage. Willems clearly couldn’t contain his own, so it was only right to let him go.”

 

Nick had nothing to say as he only shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. Willems was a decent detective with extensive knowledge in the criminal world that had aided him and Nick in breaking a few cases. What a shame.

 

“So, I better not take more of your time, Detective. Go and show Whittaker here the ropes and tricks. Maybe, she can help you out with the Ackmoose case you’re on. I’m expecting progress on my desk by tomorrow’s morning. It’s quite a case, so I’m trusting you on this one.” Hamilton gave his last words before heading for the door with the stack of folders. 

 

The red fox’s eyes followed his mammal in command as the leopard left. When the door shut and the captain disappeared from Nick’s view, he turned to the vixen by his side. What am I supposed to do with her, he thought.

 

“That was quite the introduction,” Katherine said as she tucked her hands into the side pockets of her coat. “And quite the supervisor.”

 

Nothing came from Nick as he scanned her thoroughly with a look of indifference. She looked like the type who could talk just about anything in the world, providing endless hours of entertainment, or infinite amount of annoyance. He just hoped that it was the former, and not the latter. Wouldn’t mind a mix of both, though. It was getting a bit lonely and boring at the cubicle where papers and the computer were pretty much his friends.

 

Ever since he started in the department, mammals acquainted with him had noticed his decrease in verbal socialization. Even he was beginning to spot the changes, and frankly, it scared him a bit to know that he was on the route of detaching himself from society as his mind was occupied with work nearly all the time. 

 

“Are you gonna do that all the time? ‘Cause it’s sorta creepy.”

 

“I’m making sure I know what I’m getting into.” A swift reply came back that partially eased off the weirded out look on the younger fox.

 

“If you worrying about babysitting me, then, you don’t have to. I can handle myself out there.” Katherine said, arms crossed and body shifted on one side as she gave Nick an overly confident look.

 

A small smirk formed on Nick’s face as he clasped his hand behind him and straightened his posture. “Well, that’s fantastic, then. Because that means less things for me to worry about, aside from a sociopath on the loose somewhere in the city.”

 

“Great! Let’s get going, then.” The vixen suggested. Her face was pumped with enthusiasm, and her eyes lit up with energy as she walked over to the exit and held the door open. She didn’t know where to go, but was excited to get out of the room, nonetheless.

 

“Boy, you’re really hyped up for first day at school, aren’t you, Katherine?” Nick commented as he led both of them out into the hallway. 

 

“‘Katy’ is fine. ‘Katy’ like ‘Katy Prairie’ the pop singer.”

 

“Alright, if you say so, Katy. Here’s the first thing to acknowledge when you’re starting your day one: it’s mostly paperwork.” 

 

“Piece of cake. What else?”

 

“End of day reports. Those are required for each of us, but generally, one from either of us is good enough since we’re partners and will be sticking close like glue most of the time.”

 

“Sounds fun.”

 

As the two traveled to Nick’s little corner office - which was a cubicle station at a rather spacious section of the precinct’s second floor - the more experienced detective began covering all of the rules and procedures, and explaining them to his new partner, and student, who was listening to every single word that came out of his mouth.

 

Most of the instructions Nick gave out was true to the book, but the rest are merely made up to save him from the hassle of filing paperwork and the tedious tasks.


	3. Chapter II

My ernest apologies! This took a looong while to complete thanks to the chaotic final weeks of the semester. After a lengthy period of on-and-off writing and editing, I'm glad to finally get this chapter out. 

 

 

* * *

 

Chapter II: Field Trip

 

 

* * *

 

 

Note: Pardon me for my inability to write in proper grammar, occasional misspellings, formatting shenanigans, and incomprehensible contents. English is a beautiful language, but it’s not my native language, though I’m still striving for further improvements. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Rated M  for: strong language, suggestive themes, use of violence (and excessive violence).

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Why won’t you listen to me? After all that I’ve said? Don’t you get any of it?”

 

“Watch your tongue unless you don’t need it anymore.”

 

Silence fell upon the ghastly static noise. Then, a sigh.

 

“Yes, forgive me, Grandmaster.”

 

“I understand your concern and the graveness of your situation. I’ve promised you your salvation, and I intend to keep it. But, know this: every exit and entrance, every highway, every docks and ferry and station, they’re looking for you, and they’re not stopping anytime soon. They’ve got their hounds running out there, sniffing you out of your cave on every street.”

 

“Then, what must I do, Grandmaster?”

 

“You will wait. When the time is right, you’ll be saved from this wretched city.”

 

“I will do as you commanded.”

 

“Good. Now, do what you must.”

  
  


 

* * *

 

 

With the notice of transfer relayed to her just a day before, Katherine’s workstation had little of any resemblances to her desk over at Traffic as she barely got time to gather most of her belongings, and the same goes for Nick’s former partner. It would be at least a few more days before she could completely move into her new workspace, or if she gets lucky, by tomorrow. At least, the place was neat enough for her to navigate around. 

 

After being bored out of her mind from reading pages of bland reports, she decided to take a peek over the wall that separated Nick’s workplace from hers. A break to keep her head from overworking itself. One thing she noticed within the first seconds was that the older fox’s workstation looked very different from what she had in mind. The table looked like it got struck by a hurricane. Papers covered almost every inch of the table, one of the stacks of folders had tipped over, sliding off like a mudslide. Pens and pencils laid near their storage basket as they bathed under the fluorescent lights, and balls of crumpled paper are huddled in a corner behind the whirring computer case.

 

Repulsed by the disorder, but also nagged by curiosity, she stayed for a bit longer and looked a little closer, and found a few interesting objects that made her stare. 

 

There was a palm-size glass figurine of a guitar encased in a clear plastic box sitting next to an overfilled folder tray. The obscured price tag was still glued to the bottom, and on the side of the box was curvy writings in black marker. What it said was beyond what her eyes could zoom in on.

 

On the painted plywood divider, among the sundry of monochrome sticky notes with phone numbers and agendas, pinned just next to a filled out calendar was an instant picture - a rare trinket to see in this day and age - of the red fox with another mammal. Nick had his arms looped around the white vixen's waist while she had hers anchored on his shoulder, holding on as the taller male boosted her off the ground just by a few inches. The white fox had her muzzle pressed against the red furry cheek of her companion, and on his face, a smile blossomed like an orchid flower amid Springtime.

 

That smile struck her as something exclusively different from the ones that Katherine had seen Nick throwing on every once in a while as a facade or polite gesture. Despite knowing the detective for less than two hours, she’d found herself closely analyzing him quite often and had already begun picking up on his personality - both were things that she resisted from doing more than usual every time a new face is introduced to her social circle.

 

They’d always said that foxes have a certain charm that could allure other creatures, let them be predators or preys. She’d be lying if she denied that.

 

In the wire mesh basket that held the pens and pencil in place was an odd, whimsy-looking writing utensil shaped like a bright orange carrot with a green plastic top. The pen, she presumed that it was one due to the unsheath ballpoint tip, was rather unfitting when compared to the rest of the items on the scene. In fact, all three pieces that got her musing were definitely out of place compare to the dullness of the workspace, but they were unique in a good way. They gave the detective’s booth more vibrancy and personality to it. But, why only those three, she kept thinking - until she was exhausted of theories and convinced herself to resume her work.

 

Her eyes narrowed into a sharp line and her brows furrowed intensely. Her ears perched high like antennas, but they both had blocked out the disruptive ambient noise in the room; every clicking and clacking sound of fingers tapping on mechanical keys, every indistinctive mumble and miscellaneous chatter between mammals, and the rare ringing of the landline telephones. 

 

She dashed her eyes from the paper in her left hand to the one on her right, lingering longer to the already filled out form with each time as she attempted to decrypt the messy handwriting that she presumed belonged to Nick. 

 

Not that his lines and curves were so disorderly and disproportionately scribbled down to the point of impossible to read, but because of the inconsistency in the opacity of the black ink that vexed her. An ‘o’ became a ‘c,’ a ‘b’ ended up looking like a half-cocked ‘r,’ to name a few. She wondered why he didn’t just get, or borrow from his workmates a pen that wasn’t drying out to properly fill out the end-of-day report paper - which was, essentially, a journal.    

 

He surely couldn’t be that incompetent.

 

And even if he was, she wouldn’t want to believe so.

 

Before the Night Howler fiasco and Bellwether’s prosecution for her crimes against the city of Zootopia, the name ‘Nicholas Wilde’ meant nothing to Katherine, other than it was just one of those ear-pleasing names to hear among billions of others in the entirety of Animalia. But after the event which shook the country and made mammals questioned their authorities even further, Nicholas Wilde became a figure of inspiration, of motivation for those like her kind. The red fox was one of the reasons why she was sitting in the room among Zootopia’s finest detectives. Seeing the first fox officer was something more than just uncanny and surprising - It was life-changing. 

 

Nick sort of became an idol for many foxes. He was their pioneer, a living proof that her kind could be beyond what society had been labeling them as since the dawn of civilizations. 

 

As for Katherine, she thought of him as a role model. A hero.

 

While Nick played a significant role in inspiring her to break the social norm and join the police, there was another factor that influenced her decision to do so. It was because of the family tradition that ran deep in the Whittakers' bloodline: To serve and protect.

 

She bore the name ‘Whittaker,’ but she was the first in the lineage. The first female, to be exact.

 

After a dedicated while of deciphering the rumpled writing, Katherine turned her attention to the blank case progress form that her mentor had asked to help him fill out while he disappeared for a coffee errand. There were at least four more that she had to complete, but lucky for her, the rest of the daily journals weren’t in the same condition like the one she was working on. It just so happened that a lousy apple had slipped into the batch.

 

The vixen clicked on the top of the ballpoint pen after she traded Nick’s written report for it, and began to fill out the blank paper. She still needed to type the same content of each case progress form into a log that was stored on the computer at her desk according to the department’s policies, but the fox figured that she would do it later after finishing up with the written forms. Plus, she needed to have Nick’s credentials to upload the files to the appropriate destination as she wasn’t in the division’s system, yet. A login attempt would only redirect her to the Traffic division, not Homicide-Robbery.

 

Katherine's progress on the tedious was abruptly intruded by the landing of a brown cup teeming of blended coffee on her desk. She glanced at it, catching a glimpse of her mentor flopping down in his office chair with a cup of his own.

 

“Sorry, it took a while to get through the line,” said the tod before he tasted his coffee and slightly frowned at the bitterness. Once the sip had left but a faint kick on his taste buds, Nick questioned as he saw his student followed suit, “How’s the coffee?”

 

“Could’ve been just a bit sweeter.” Katherine shrugged before taking another quick sip. 

 

“ZPD finest coffee.”

 

Nick peeked at the paper on the vixen’s desk with the coffee still in his hand, “How’s the work coming along?”

 

“Slower than a turtle, but faster than a snail. Thanks to your spectacular handwriting that is.”

 

“Parents wanted me to be a doctor. Was halfway there until I switched over.” The fox rested against the chair with his hands tucked behind his head, and a smirk quirked his maw.

 

“I bet that they couldn’t read your resume, so they sent you over here instead,” the vixen attested playfully as she passed Nick the papers that she was finished with. 

 

“Ah, like how the theatre school sent back your scripts?”

 

“Jerk,” she said after rolling her eyes and crossing her arms in defeat as no better comeback sprang to her mind. 

 

“Jerk? I’m not one. He is.” Nick pointed past the fox as he stretched to set the papers on Katherine’s desk. 

 

“Nice try, not falling for it.” 

 

It was tempting to look, but the vixen knew better. After huffing at the amused detective, Katherine turned back to her interrupted paperwork and focused on getting them out of the way.

 

“Did you even read the papers?”

 

“No, since I have faith that you got that covered for me, Cadet.”

 

“Cadet?”

 

“Yes. Got any question, Cadet?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

When it was already past high noon by an hour, almost everything Nick tasked her with was finished to the bare bone. But as one trouble was out of sight, another steadily crept its way in and had Nick musing over his cup of rancid beverage. 

 

He was running out of chores for his student to do.

 

“Captain mentioned something about an ‘Ackmoose’ case. Is that related to the moose they’ve been talking about on the news?” Katherine asked without peering at the fox, fingers dancing across the keyboard as she finalized a few more things before she can log out of her mentor’s account.

 

“Yep. My old buddy and I were working on it - still is, actually, but just one less and going nowhere at the moment. Lots of evidence pit against him, got a warrant, too.” Nick clarified while freeing his cluttered workspace from unused papers and misplaced office supplies. He then added with a sigh, “Dirtbag knew we were coming, so he’s in the wind. Willems and I were going through the places that he’d been staying, and no luck so far.”

 

“Traffic cams?” The young mammal referred to the widely established network of traffic cameras installed throughout the city’s districts - something that she rapidly got familiar with during the first week on the force.

 

“Dead ends most of the time. He knows how to avoid the main roads that are watched by cams. Ran his plate, too. Guess what?”

 

“Plate’s from someone else’s.” It didn’t take more than a second for Katherine to come up with the answer that Nick confirmed with approving nods.

 

Nick surveyed the interest on his student’s countenance and pondered for a moment before commanding the chair to spin around so he could reach for one of the blue folders stacked on the side. The fox eyed the densely packed dossier for a moment, and after a struck of realization, almost slapped himself for forgetting something crucial. 

 

“Here’s the where the case is going so far. Everything’s in there.” Nick said, transferring the folder over to his partner before he spun around again and pulled out his personal phone.

 

It didn’t take long before Katherine had fully informed herself on the case and was with more questions than Nick could answer, even without a phone stuck up against his ear. Since she was reviewing through the pages of her mentor’s ongoing investigation, whatever Nick was saying to the recipient on the other line of the phone didn’t reach her, and she thought that she didn’t need to hear any of it anyway.

 

“So, I can see that you have questions.” Nick declared as he tucked his phone away after the call ended.

 

“Many.”

 

“Fire away.”

 

Katherine flipped through the stapled stack of papers and pointed at a particular section of a detailed bulleted list. “Little presence on the internet. What about bank accounts and credit cards?”

 

“Deactivated all of that after he withdrew almost two thousands one or two days ago.”

 

“What about his phone?”

 

“Off the grid. Last known location was confirmed to be at the bottom of the river. He wiped it clean, too. SIM card charred, as well.”

 

With a small nod, the young mammal reshuffled the pages before stopping, “Absolutely no family or relatives?”

 

“Either dead or doesn’t know about his existence.”

 

“Ouch.”

 

“Our guy is the introvert, antisocial kind. So far, we guess that he most likely doesn’t have any friends, or have a very selected few of them. Few mammals know him, too, from what we could gather.”  

 

Katherine could see why Nick said he wasn’t moving forward with the case. Their target had gone off the map and expertly covered his tracks as if he knew what the police was about to do. But, that didn’t mean the case would be closed then and there. She was going to track down this moose and bring him in behind bars. She and Nick would be the ones to bring this criminal in, doing whatever it takes so that the city can rest knowing a stalking force of malice would be brought down under the gravel of justice.  

 

Exactly how? She wasn't sure, but, hoped that something would come up that can aid them in catching Ackmoose's cold trail.

 

“But,” Nick added as he jerked away from the backrest and stretched his arm for a sticky note covered in blue. Katherine's brows arched in anticipation and her eyes brightened up as soon as the hopeful word reached her ears, and the red vixen inched her chair closer to Nick's side of the workstation.

 

“Medical records show that he was appointed to a physiatrist for an undisclosed mental disorder. Pulled up the name, got the address, the only problem was that our doctor isn't in town. Words said that he left around yesterday's dawn on vacation for a week.”

 

“Great,” Katherine let the chair catch her body as it crumbled under the weight of her sigh. Just when there was a lead, it had to be out of their reach. She began to wonder if this was a routine of detective work, or she and Nick were just up against the odds. She crossed her arms and stared far into the distance as if there was something to be found.

 

Nick snapped the folder closed and tossed it back on top of the other piles of paper before he, too, allowed his back to relax in its comfortable position against the woven fabric of the chair. He saw a concentrated look on his apprentice’s frowning face and decided to say something. “Don’t scheme too hard, Cadet. It’s not gonna lead you to anywhere better than it’d led me.”

 

Not a single fur shifted on Katherine’s face as she pressed on with her brainstorm, despite her mentor advising not to. Her mind recreated a reel of film documenting what her eyes had seen of those pages in the case file, hoping to recall something that could be of use, desperate to remember anything that might become their new lead on the fugitive. Then, there it was.

 

“There was a list of location,” the vixen began and paused momentarily to see if she had gotten Nick’s attention, and once she was satisfied with the attention and care directed at her sapphire eyes, she continued, “some of them were crossed out, except for two of them. What are those?”

 

Nick explained, “Oh, yeah, those. They’re places where Ackmoose had resided in that we were able to pull from the database. Most of them are either occupied by someone else, or my old buddy and I had already checked out and came out with little to no help in finding the moose. Hence why they’re crossed out.”

 

“And the last two that aren’t?”

 

“Figured that they would end up being the same as the previous ones, so we didn’t bother to go there.”

 

“But, what if they’re not?” 

 

Nick sprung from the backrest and got a hold of the case file before he flipped to the correct page with the addresses. “Considering that both of them are from almost two to three years ago, I have to say that it’s quite unlikely we would find anything useful there. One is an apartment, and we know how apartment rentals work. Landlords don't like it when there's vacancy in their building. Stuff is mostly like shuffled up and gone.”

 

“But, have you guys at least gone to any of those places?” Katherine argued, her body inched toward the edge of the chair. "Talked to the people living there? Maybe someone knows something about our guy."

 

She does have the enthusiasm, Nick noted.

 

"I just think that it's worth a shot."

 

Nick rocked his chair forward and back ever so slightly, even though the design of the seat didn't permit such option. He watched Katherine trying to persuade him with her eyes, anticipating an affirmative answer like a teenager asking her parent's permission to go out on a date night.

 

Nick thought it over, then agreed with the idea, "Alright, then. Gather your things, and meet me in the parking lot. We’re going for a field trip."

 

"Yes, sir." She said, springing out of her chair, causing Nick to jerk his back away to avoid bumping into the young fox.

 

"Whittaker!"

 

"Yeah?" She spun around to see Nick tapping a finger on his badge.

 

"You have your badge, at least?"

 

She lifted her blazer to the side and revealed the hidden shiny badge clipped onto the inside pocket of the jacket. It was near identical to the one Nick has on his belt, except it was issued for a different division.

 

"Pistols?" He referred to both the stun gun and the lethal firearm.

 

The vixen lifted the other side of her jacket to flash both weapons sitting snugly in their holsters. Katherine wore a single shoulder strap that allowed both of her guns to be safely rested close to her side while concealing their existence to the untrained eyes. Nick apparently didn’t look hard enough to notice the contour of the taser’s signature grip.

 

"I'll meet you down there," Nick said as he was assured that the young fox had every necessary tool she needed should anything grim came up. 

 

Once the small figure of Katherine had disappeared among the shuffling office mammals and painted wood desks, Nick turned his chair around and punched in the numbers for the front desk before pressing the old-fashion landline phone up at his ear. As a familiar jolly voice greeted him, 

 

"Hey, Clawhauser, do me a favor, and I promise to buy you a box of rainbow sprinkled donuts tomorrow."

 

Nick didn't wait for any replies from the cheetah before he continued, "Can you bring whatever Leah is delivering up to my desk? She's gonna swing by soon. Appreciate it. Thanks again, you're the best." 

 

The phone clicked before the other end got a chance to say anything. Nick huffed slightly as he jumped off his warmed up seat, even though the chair has the function to lower itself. After scooping the case file folder up under his arm and shoving a pocket-size notepad into his jacket, along with a mechanical pencil that had two or three led sticks left inside, Nick made his way to the exit stairs and bumped into two of his colleagues, who he had had quite a few encounters with. Good ones, mostly.

 

“Spring and Rod, looking lively today,” Nick nodded his head as the two familiar faces of a kangaroo, and a dingo simultaneously turned from their destination to look down at him.

 

“Saw you got a new partner, Wilde,” Harrold said as he bounced to entirely turn himself.

 

“What about you, Spring? When are you getting a new partner?”

 

“I’m starting to wonder, too.”

 

“He’s so full of shit that he’s stuck with me,” the dingo jumped in right after his partner, who immediately cooked up a retaliation.

 

“Partners are assigned based on their level of performances. So,”

 

Even though both detectives were at least in the end figures of middle ages, none of them seemed to have fully conformed to the stereotyped behaviors of mammals in their late forties and early fifties. That’s a good thing, Nick supposed. Age is defined by the behaviors, not so much the numbers. At least, that’s the way he sees it.

 

Nick felt the need to end the conversation and get moving before he gets caught up in another chat, so gave Rod, the dingo, a quick pat, “Catch you both later,” and then strolled down the flight of stairs to head out into the parking lot.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The first half of their plan went in the direction that neither of them wanted but indeed had expected. It was the nature of their job to do so, after all. To keep an open mind to any possibilities, even if some of them are not so desirable. Unfortunately for both Nick and his trainee, of those unwanted possibilities wasn’t just speculation.

 

Nick made sure the car on his left was keeping a steady speed behind them before he smoothly turned the steering wheel and merged the Doge into the lane designated for left turns and U-turns. They had overshot their destination by almost two miles thanks to an absurd debate between him and Katherine on whether Zootopia should enact a restrictive law on alcohol, which somehow turned into a story time about each other’s background. Nick wasn’t much of a talker on this one as the spotlight was already taken by his accompanying mammal.

 

“My family does have a long of history on military and law enforcement.” The vixen said as she adjusted her seat to lean a little further back. She swore it was the seat itself that was putting her in so much misery, even more than that time of the month.

 

“Which explain why you’re here,” said Nick as he scanned from one side to the another before rounding the divider to head back toward the highway. His eyes were shielded by the signature pair of aviators, so naturally, one would judge from his static head that the fox didn’t even bother to look before turning. Though, hidden behind the lenses, they were still as sharp as they had always been.

 

“Yep. Well, partly.”

 

“Partly?”

 

“It’s another story.”

 

“One that I definitely don’t want to hear, unless we’re planning on driving past the place for the second time.”

 

The was no answer that time, and it made the older fox glanced to his side. 

 

Katherine was staring out of the tinted window with her curled palm brushed up against her cheek, eyes aiming at the trees that were zipping past them at a speed too fast for the vixen to fully appreciate the beautiful creations of nature. Her other hand was on her thigh, fingers tapping to the lyrics of the quiet song on the stereo. She didn’t seem to notice the looks Nick had been shooting toward her direction as her mind recalled for her a dejavu feeling. A memory of her childhood that resembled the scenery that was surrounding them. 

 

Pointy tops of the evergreens huddling together on the other side of the highway’s barrier as they caressed the nearby trees. The white willows in the far behind dancing among each other to the tunes of the wind’s lullaby. White-nest swiftlets paraded in the bright blue sky as the little white puffs of cloud lazily floated along, going to who-knows-where and who-cares-where.

 

It must have been five years already since she moved here. College had kept her occupied enough to make her lost track of how long she hadn't been back to home. After her two years at Duke's Archives was the ZPD Academy, and that, too, kept her from missing home. It was all strange to Katherine that of all the time she spent pushing through the higher educational career all by herself, that feeling of homesick never once showed itself when enclosed by the walls of the dormitory, and yet, this one car trip on her first day as a detective trainee hit her in the right spot with recollections of home and her family.

 

The red fox tried to swallow the tight knot in her throat that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Her nose burned a bit, and a tingling sensation crept on her face as she distracted herself from those thoughts without much success.

 

"Hey, Cadet,"

 

"Yeah?" She answered, not daring to turn to look for the fear that he would see the glitters in her eyes. She couldn't show that vulnerable side of hers, the vixen thought. What if they take away her chance at becoming someone like her mentor, Nick? Then, all those years of studying would just go to waste.

 

"Hope that wasn't too personal or anything, so, sorry in advance."

 

"No, don't worry about it. Wasn't anything at all."

 

Nick took his eyes off the road to make sure the vixen meant what she said, and from his perspective, he was somewhat unconvinced. "You're sure?"

 

The young mammal nodded her head a couple times to further prove it, but Nick still didn't buy it. He decided to roll along with it, however, to save both of them from further awkward situations. Perhaps, to save himself from having to get tangled in a deep conversation, as well.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When the car finally slithered to a stop before their last destination on the list, both mammals exchanged a look that said more than words any of them could come up with. Both hoped that the shabby wooden cabin would point them to the right direction where their suspect had vanished to. But, then again, what kind of senior worker at a reputable company with a salary twice that of Nick lives in a solitary shack near the outcast of the city border?

 

"Fancy place. You're sure this is the address?" Katherine laid a hand on the door handle, standing by as she waited for confirmation from Nick. Her eyes rapidly picked out the irregularities in the surroundings. Nothing odd.

 

"Mhmm," Nick swiped the screen on his car's GPS to double check the name and numbers. Nothing mismatches. Lemon Grove road, Marshland, Zootopia. They were at the correct location. 

 

"Files said that he lived here about three years ago. After Ackmoose moved to the apartment in Tundratown, he still kept this one here. Paid for maintenance and all, until a year ago or so when the money stopped coming in. That explains the shitty exterior."

 

"I can smell the interior, already." The vixen said as she lowered her window to get a better look at the place.

 

"Really?"

 

Katherine gave her mentor a quizzical look as she cocked her head slightly, "No, of course, nothing. How would I be able to do that?"

 

"Hey, you never know, Cadet." Nick pulled the handle and stepped out of the car, to which his apprentice followed after with a taser readied in her hand.

 

"Files reported that nobody lives here anymore. Let's see if that's right. What's with the zappy?"

 

"Insurance, just in case. The place looks shady enough." 

 

"That's what gonna get us in that 'just in case' scenario, Zappy Fingers. Put that away." Nick scowled lightly with a pointed finger at the weapon. His face eases off somewhat as the taser was holstered. Hesitantly, but done nevertheless.

 

The detective and his partner sauntered toward the tri-step that connected the patio to the gravel path. Their ears up high like sonars pinning down any unseen threats approaching. A pile of firewood came in Katherine's view as she proceeded. Must be a fireplace inside, she immediately concluded.

 

"You wanna go over the procedures? If I remember correctly, everything’s just about the same." Nick inquired as the door stood before them.

 

"Do you?"

 

"I'll rather skip it."

 

"Me, too."

 

Nick formed his hand into a fist and knocked loudly on the decayed door. Before a second fist could land down on the brittle coat of jungle green paint, the door yawned open. The fume of rotten wood and moist escaped their encampment and blasted straight into the red fox's snout, causing him to grimace and twitch his black nose. 

 

"Shit. You were right, Cadet. This place does smell just like how it looks." Nick wiped his nose a few times, desperate to get the stench out of his nostrils, but it was already too late to reverse it. In that horrible smell, however, was a faint trace of something else that Nick's sensitive nose detected soon after.

 

Katherine already had a finger covering her own nose when Nick was about to knock. She'd picked up the indistinguishable stench of rotten wood from beneath the floorboards they were standing on as soon as the patio planks creaked under the mammals' weight. 

 

"ZPD! Anybody home?" Nick commanded loudly but was only met with the echo of his words. No one was here, yet the door was unlocked. 

 

The detective looked down at where the door lock was installed and hummed in acknowledgment as he found the reason for the door to open on itself. The latch was stuck deep inside, possibility due to rust or excessive force being applied on, and the strike plate on the door frame was crooked enough to prevent the door panel from closing fully.

 

Forced entry wasn't the first thing to come to Nick's running mind as he processed the facts, but it did cross his thoughts. Breaking and entering wasn't something rare in this city, after all, and some criminals are dumb enough to force their way in through the front door. He still remembered arresting a lynx who tried that with a crowbar on a midnight of June.

 

Just returning what he stole. Huh , Nick internally snickered at the memory of the encounter.

 

The guest room was spotted with arrays of sunlight poking through tiny holes of the termite-infested ceiling and roof. A thin gap between the windows had allowed passage for the elements to intrude, and bugs and multi-legs crawlers of all kind had already claimed the place as their home. The floor creaked and moaned with each step from the two strangers as their flashlights swept the room. Nobody was there to greet the guests, so the duo invited themselves in.

 

"Think of any reason why anyone would live in a place like this? Well, obviously, not in the state like it is now, but before," Katherine asked as she inspected a bookcase that held not too many manuscripts and paperbacks. Although the top part was too high for her to reach, whether, by tiptoeing or bouncing up and down, the vixen stood back far enough to see that there was nothing on the top two shelves.

 

"In a cabin far from the city noise? I can see why. Know a few, too, actually. In the Marshes? Know a few who live here, but not because they want to. I hardly believe anyone would want to live in the leftover area of the city's early days. Mushy grounds and all." 

 

Nick crouched down on his hinds to get a better look at a stone fireplace. The fox hovered his hand over the piles of charcoal, placing it in the middle of the teepee where leftovers of the previous fire resided on a metal sheet. Cold, just as expected. But, there was that smoky scent floating around. Doesn't smell like firewood, he thought.

 

Katherine was careful enough with her fingers to not stir up any more dust into the air as she searched the middle section of the bookcase, where it was still possible for her small frame to stretch up. The vixen jerked her hand back and hesitated at the sight of a cockroach lying upside-down with its limbs shrunken toward the underbelly. She had always hated these vermins and their existence, all because of their disgusting design and uselessness. The thought of those tiny legs clinging onto her skin and fur as one stealthily crawled along her leg was enough to make her stop the thoughts about the creature and moved on with the search. 

 

There was a section exclusively organized for stacks of CDs, all most them music. Katherine recognized a few titles of songs and albums as she skimmed through the collection. Oldtimer, she remarked while picking up a CD case with the name of a particular song that she knew.

 

“Free as a breeze, not to mention the trees, whistling tunes that you know and love so,” the fox sang the lyrics quietly to herself, but the words reached the other mammal’s ears, and surprisingly, she was met with the next verse of song from the other end of the room.

 

“Love that song as a kid. Still, love it today. One of the best to ever exist.”

 

“So, you do have a great taste in music.”

 

“Oh, kiddo, you have no idea.” 

 

As the focused quietness slipped back into the air again, both foxes pressed on with their investigation. Katherine moved from the midsection of the bookcase to the lower bottom part where it was easier for her to do her work.

 

“‘Legends and Tales of Animalia.’ Quite the reader.”  

 

After the comment, her eyes instantly locked on to a nearby book placed on its side unlike the others, which were positioned upright and organized in columns. Slanted downwards, Katherine noted at the horizontal angle of the odd book's cover. She reached her hand out and snagged it away from a creeping cockroach.

 

Nick dug one finger into the cold ashes that resided in the fireplace, then scooped up a small sample of the remains of whatever fueled the fire that once burned. He rubbed his fingertips together, trying to guess the material. Papers, the fox quickly concluded after a moment of critical inspection. _Why papers? What papers?_

 

Nick shone some light on the site of the withered fire and scanned the place a little closer. A lone scrap of printed paper stuck under one of the fake wood logs caught his eyes, prompting the detective to carefully retrieve it and place it under the bright flashlight. Part of it was charred by the flame, but the rest was still preserved enough for the fox’s squinted eyes to read the few printed words and a page number.

 

"’ Beyond Malevolence and Benevolence,’" Katherine read the title on the front before dwelling in to inspect the dusty and spider webs-covered book. Just as she’d thought, a few pages of the book were missing. Torn out - judging from the jagged remains of where the pages once were. It made Katherine wondered a few things, but before she went any further, the vixen skimmed a few pages before and after the torn-out spot. Almost none of it made sense to her. This is some sort of higher philosophical writings that she'd always dreaded - the type that spins one's head and induces insanity to the fragile minds, the kind that is written by mad mammals for mad mammals.

 

Katherine recognized the author's name as she closed the book. Written by a mad mammal, she noted before setting the book aside to take a look at the rest on the shelves. All of them were philosophical writings, written by various authors whose names the red vixen partly recognized. All loonies and outcasts. Mammals whose ideologies and teachings were deemed incompatible with society.

 

"You found anything, Cadet?" 

 

"A book with a few pages missing." Katherine grabbed the book from the shelf and presented it to the detective. The vixen noticed the scrap of paper between his fingers. She nodded at it.

 

"Found this in the fireplace in the ashes. Someone fed papers in the fire." Nick said as his eyes looked down at the page number smeared by ashes and black residues. He knew what his companion was thinking. "One thirty-eight."

 

Katherine opened the book the confirm, sending pages zipping by as her fingers rushed to find the number. Just as both mammals had suspected, the page number Nick read aloud wasn't there, thus, solidifying their suspicion: the page was burnt in the fireplace along with the other torn-outs. Now, all that left to wonder was what those pages contained, and why they were burnt.

 

"Think Ackmoose did it? He ripped the pages out and tossed them in the fire?"

 

Nick pinched his chin thoughtfully. The tough part of detective work is to glue the pieces of the puzzle together for the intended big picture, not crafting an image and force the pieces to fit. It's a dangerous practice to weave a story, then fit the shreds of evidence in. It's tempting to do so, especially when everything seems so right it can't be any other way. Nick was tempted to agree with his student's idea.

 

"That's a possibility. But, we can't say for sure it's Ackmoose for we know the door lock is already busted before we’re here, and anyone could have gone through that door. Although,"

 

"Squatters don't rip out pages from a book at a specific location to kindle fire while there are lighter fuel and enough firewood to brave through winter. If the temperature even dropped to that cold, that is." Katherine continued her mentor's sentence, pointing toward a metal canister of flammable liquid sitting on the stone shelf above the fireplace. There was a small, rectangular, see-through window in the container, and she clearly saw there was more than enough liquid in there.

 

Everything presented was pointing toward that one conclusion. Might as well just roll with it and see where it goes, Nick thought. But then again, even if that turned out to be true, what would it have anything to do with where the moose is hiding? Maybe they’re looking into the wrong thing here. 

 

“Let’s look around some more. Something relevant to where Ackmoose might be at,” Nick said as he set the scrap of paper down on the glass of a coffee table.

 

He took a few steps to enter the gloomy kitchen, but halted in his track with a loud fingersnap and spun himself around, “But, to be sure, bag those. We’ll bring them to the lab and see what they can find. Bindles are in the trunk, box on the left.”

 

“Roger that.”  

 

After Katherine had taken both the book and the piece of burnt paper away to the car for filing, Nick advanced into the closest room to where he was with eyes darting from one corner to another. Everything was in their places, except for a plate of leftovers on the spruce dining table. The red fox bowed down to sniff at the food plate to confirm what his eyes saw. His nose twitched, and his face contracted into a grimace at the sour smell of the spoiled turkey and mashed potato dinner. Been here recently, but long enough. Already, his hope was rising, and he absolutely hated it. Not that he hates having hope, but rather the undesired surprises that can shatter that hope - the feeling of having it taken away after praying and expecting for it. False hope. He wanted to make sure he wasn’t getting into that.

 

Before he moved on to another spot, his mind suggested something critical to their investigation. “Left in a hurry.”

 

The chair set at a strange angle, silverwares dipped in food were still next to the plate, and the crumpled napkins were there, too. It was reasonable to draw such a conclusion from the observation, and this new clue further backed up his earlier thought. Ackmoose was here recently. _Most likely after the warrants_ , he added to it.

 

But then, it could be just some random mammal who broke into the house, seeing that there was no one home, decided to have a belly-full diner. It’s plausible, but a burglar or junkie would have turned the place inside out for any valuables, anything that can be sold for a bit of pocket cash. Since his first footstep into the house, the area was remarkably neat for an abandoned place. 

 

“If he did come back, then he must’ve done it for a reason. For something, maybe,” the fox murmured while checking out the rest of the room. By the time he finished with the tour that yielded nothing more, Katherine had returned from her tasks and met the detective pacing in the kitchen. Nick saw her coming in but didn’t say anything as he continued with his train of thoughts.

 

“You look like you’ve found something, Wilde.”

 

“I did.”

 

“So, what is it, then?”

 

“Ackmoose could have been here recently. Not anyone else but the moose himself. Look at that plate there, and the stuff around it. Also, everything in their places with almost no signs of burglary.”

 

Katherine saw what her mentor was pointing out. She, too, agreed with that. “Let’s say that he did, but what for?”

 

“That is what we’re gonna find out right now, Cadet,” Nick said before walking over to the other rooms of the household, motioning his apprentice to come along. He expected to wrap things up relative soon after seeing that wasn’t much of anything else that can contribute to their investigation.

 

One could say that things went a little over his expectations.

 

 

* * *

 

 

She twirled the fork in her hand, spun it with her fingers, and watched the silverware gleamed and glittered under the golden light. She held it half-way between two fingers and observed as each end dipped and rose one after another, alternating the reflective lights. It fascinated her for no longer than a minute before her mind wandered back to one thing she’d been fretting about for the past forty-six minutes.

 

Leah sighed and rested her cheek in hand with half-lidded eyes staring blankly at the other end of the dining table. Her other hand was still fiddling with the fork, trying to do something to keep her awake, but eventually, she set the thing back down where she’d picked it up. She went from doing something to doing nothing again.

 

She’d been hoping that Nick would turn the knob and walk through the front door at any next minutes. But, as every minute past, that hope dwindled bits by bits. As she flicked her weary eyes over at the clock above the doorway, her hope died a little once more. Maybe she should just get on with it and then head to bed, she pondered. She’ll just sleep it off until the next morning. She’ll leave the food there for him like how she did it last night. Put a note on the table, too, maybe.

 

Leah closed her eyes for a moment of peaceful rest. No untouched dinner plates, no clock ticking, no empty seat. Just simple pitch black. Nothing in her sight to make her mind runs like a waterfall. Except, whenever she began to think about her fox, his image just couldn’t be rid of. It’s like imprinted in her mind, almost. When she closed herself off to the visual world, Nick’s face would just paint itself all over her vision. _That smug, yet silly and adorable and squishy face. Damn it._ She sighed again, but this time with a tender smile. Maybe just a little longer, she told herself, not noting that it had been the fourth time she did so.

 

She was beginning to doze off when a distinctive sound woke her. Hurried footsteps were approaching as she pried her eyes open. When they were finally unveiled, Leah was more confused than ever. No one was there. But, she was affirmed that her ears picked up sounds of shoe soles tapping against the floor. Maybe she was imagining things? How long had she been sitting here?

 

A wave of disappointment washed over Leah as she looked at the clock. An hour before midnight and Nick was still nowhere to be seen. She’d already texted him twice about dinner at home. _How could he forget? Maybe…_

 

_...he doesn’t care? _

 

That kind of thought was what scared her, and she immediately wiped it away. But, she was tired. Her body demanded sleep, and her mind nagged on a good rest. She, however, wanted Nick. She wanted to see him come home and sit down for dinner with her. Was it too much to ask for?

 

Just before she could go on with her brooding, the vixen felt strange air surrounding her, and a stranger feeling kicking in her stomach. It felt like someone was watching her, not from afar, but almost like right behind her. Behind.

 

Something immediate swooped down and landed on her left cheek before taking off and disappearing. It happened so fast she couldn’t comprehend what it was… until she heard the muffled chuckles and the steady, warm breaths at the side of her neck.

 

“Caught you snoozing.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Nick waited for any kind of responses from Leah, but when he noticed none, his heart began drumming. She was just sitting there with her hands on the table, not even turning around or perking her ears up. The sly smile on Nick’s maw slowly curved down into a line full of worries, and his ears slightly dropped as he tentatively watched the arctic fox’s shoulders rose and fell rhythmically. His eyes widen as Leah brought both of her hands in her lap and set them on top of one another, all while she straightened her back. She sighed and cleared her throat.

 

_Crap._

 

Such sight was the foretelling of an untasteful event to come. 

 

“Nick,” 

 

She stressed his name out in her calmest tone and followed up with a deadly silence. The red fox thought his heart had stopped when her head rotated so her eyes could meet his. If Nick could see himself right then, he wouldn’t notice the colors running that were away from his face and fur. He mustered up a response.

 

“Yess, dear?” 

 

“This isn’t working out,” she said with a soft voice still.

 

“What’s not working out?”

 

Nick held his breath, anticipating an answer. Any kind of answer, but favorably the ones that wouldn’t spiral his life into a chaotic mess.

 

“This. This is whole… catching me snoozing. It’s illegal to do that here.”

 

In an instant, Nick inhaled a large gulp of air through his nose, then with all humility, forcefully exhale and dropped his face, replacing it with the most unamused mask he could pull off - straight lips, half-lidded eyes with a deadpan stare, and a single perked ear, and all that. He stood there unmoved until Leah grabbed the hem of his coat and pulled him lower, guiding her lips to his. It was brief, gone like a warm summer breeze, but enough to transform the grumpy look on the red fox into something else his partner was more familiar with. 

 

"Busy day as usual?"

 

"Yeah. Gone on a field trip, too, so that took up the whole day."


End file.
